


find you

by fernnette



Series: find you universe [1]
Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Blowjobs, Eddie Diaz might be a kinky bastard, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, Friends to Lovers, Holding Hands, Inspired by Fanfiction, M/M, Slow Burn, but make it sloppy, will leave said fanfics in notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:21:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 78,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23439115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fernnette/pseuds/fernnette
Summary: you’re exhaustingthat’s all buck can hear
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Evan “Buck” Buckley & Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Series: find you universe [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1954138
Comments: 736
Kudos: 1417





	1. i can hear the sound of your barely beating heart

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [a leaf falls on loneliness](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23382061) by [iimpossible_things](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iimpossible_things/pseuds/iimpossible_things). 
  * Inspired by [Tethers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22309606) by [red_to_black](https://archiveofourown.org/users/red_to_black/pseuds/red_to_black). 
  * Inspired by [This Old Man Thought It Weak](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22905544) by [CocoBadShip](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CocoBadShip/pseuds/CocoBadShip). 



> This is my first 911 fic, and I’m *nervous*
> 
> I had several inspirations for this fic. The main one is “a leaf falls on loneliness” by iimpossible_things. This fic is kind of my fanfic of that work, so some parts are very similar, like VERY. Please read it. I loved it. 
> 
> I also agreed that I thought Eddie’s “you’re exhausting” didn’t get enough attention. 
> 
> Tethers (red_to_black) also was a big inspiration for a soft Buck and an appropriate slow burn. 
> 
> I like a realistic Buddie fic, and I think Buddie coming together is slow. It’s not overnight in my head. This was originally going to be a one shot, but it started getting obnoxiously long, so I’ve started splitting it into chapters. I also couldn’t give this just one chapter. Like I said I think Buddie would realistically be such a slow burn.
> 
> I love hearing other people’s ideas, or fics that have inspired you. I love being able to incorporate other ideas into stories, so please let me know what you think. 
> 
> A major song that has inspired me is Find You; Ruelle. It kind of embodies what I’m writing toward.
> 
> Anyways, thanks for coming to my ted talk. I hope you enjoy the first chapter I’ll probably update soon for the second chapter just to get the ball rolling then get into a steady schedule.

These days Evan Buckley thought he had a lot to make up for. That even on slow days at the 118 he needed to work harder, give more of himself to this job than humanly possible. After the lawsuit he groveled at everyone’s feet, begging for forgiveness, and eventually he got it. Much to his chagrin everyone came around, and before long it was like it never happened. 

But still Buck felt guilty and ashamed. That’s why he came in early before shift and was usually the last to leave. He took initiative, taking on others chores and all of the grunt work. He needed to do this. He needed to feel useful. He needed to feel needed, and he didn’t. At the end of the day he felt easily replaceable, and the 118 showed him just how easy it was when they brought Lena Bosko in. Buck can’t explain the hurt he felt when he saw her with Eddie. Can’t explain the nauseous feeling he had for weeks when he saw her name taped over his. 

It didn’t help that he couldn’t sleep, couldn’t stomach more than a few bites of food at a time. Most nights he had nightmares. Usually varying in scenes. Sometimes he was drowning, a heavy weight trapping him below the waves. Other times he’s watching Christopher drown beside him, and he can’t save him, can’t get to him no matter how hard he tries. Occasionally he’s pinned. Back under that fire truck struggling to get his head around the pain. Struggling to keep his eyes open. So, no. Buck doesn’t sleep much. 

He’s thought about telling Bobby or Eddie about his struggles, but every time he gets close, close enough to open his mouth, he hears Eddie yelling at him. 

_—you’re exhausting—_

Eddie’s forgiven him. Forgiven him for losing Chris during the tsunami. Forgiven him for airing out everyone’s dirty laundry during the lawsuit. Forgiven him for not being there when Eddie and Chris needed him most. Eddie reassures Buck that everything is water under the bridge, but even though everyone at the 118 has forgiven him, he hasn’t forgiven himself. 

And that was really the root of all of his problems. Himself. He could stand here and blame it on Bobby or Eddie or Maddie, but he was always the cause of everyone’s pain somehow. He was the cause of his own pain. Buck didn’t think anyone would turn him away if he came to them with his problems. He thinks anyone he went to would welcome him with open arms and let him lean on them for a while. It was Buck. Traumatized by two little words yelled at him in a grocery store. Two little words that stuck with him.

Because at the end of the day you’ll always remember when you felt the most insecure—the most self-conscious. For Buck he’s never felt more exposed and vulnerable than in that moment surrounded by his chosen family as they struggled to even look at him. For Buck he’ll never forget those words. He’ll spend the rest of his life checking himself—facing reality. 

_—you’re exhausting—_

//////

Evan Buckley tried to be a positive light everyday he walked into the firehouse. He tried to be a beacon of hope on every call. He’s been on the opposite side of a call, and he knows how hard it can be. He knows how intimidating and scary the situation can be. That’s why he does his best to plaster a smile onto his face no matter the circumstances. 

Today, unfortunately, he can’t.

Today he can’t pretend to be okay. He can’t pretend that he’s not exhausted from waking up in the middle of the night from a nightmare only to send himself into a spiraling panic attack. Today he just doesn’t want to put on a show for anyone. Today he’s unwilling to pretend he can cast all his problems aside and suck it up as Eddie likes to say. 

Last night was especially bad. His nightmare began as a happy dream. He was with Chris and Eddie at the pier. They were happy, eating handfuls of cotton candy. Then the first wave hit, and Eddie was just gone. All that was left was a frail, scared Chris reaching out for him, begging and pleading with him to help him. No matter how hard Buck tried to reach him, he couldn’t. That heaviness, it pulled him down until he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. It pulled him until he drowned. He woke up gasping for air and calling out for Christopher. 

After a few hours he was able to drag himself downstairs and get himself in the head space for work. And by headspace he meant in a place where he wouldn’t break down every few minutes. 

He’s sitting on the bench in the locker room buttoning his LAFD shirt with his eyes closed. That’s how tired he is today. He repeats his mantra from this morning. 

_Today will be a good day. You will keep everyone you love safe. Today will be a good day._

“Buck? You okay?” 

Buck pops his eyes open quickly. He blinks a couple times hoping to help the dry, itchy feeling he has. He casts a glance at Eddie who’s strolling into the room, fiddling with his locker before he starts putting his uniform on. 

“Yeah, man. Just a little tired.”

Eddie nods, “Yeah, I get that. Chris was up in the middle of night last night. He never has accidents anymore, but he did last night. I think I spent a couple hours trying to clean up and calm him down.” 

Buck grimaces. He’s brought back to the fact that others have bigger problems than his own. 

“Sounds rough, man. Anything I can do?”

Eddie chuckles, sitting down beside him to slip into his boots. He leans down effectively hiding his face from Buck’s view, and fortunately for Buck, doing the same for him. “Yeah, actually. Chris wants a movie night. I figured maybe you could come over tonight. I’ll order pizza.” Eddie finishes tying his shoes and sits back up, turning to face his best friend. 

Buck does his best to give a convincing smile. It’s not that he’s trying to distance himself from Eddie. He’s not really trying to do that. It’s just happening that way. Buck feels like he can’t heal properly if he sees Eddie everyday which is unavoidable since they work together. On the flip side though Buck longs to see Chris every waking moment of the day. He wants—needs—to have eyes on him constantly, to make sure he’s truly okay. 

Buck hesitates, not long enough for Eddie to notice, but long enough for Buck to feel himself slipping. “Yeah, sure. Sounds great. I’ll bring beer.”

“Let’s say six-thirty then?” Eddie drops a heavy hand onto Buck’s shoulder, letting it rest there. Buck finds himself marveling at the heaviness of it, at the heat radiating through his shirt into his skin. He finds solace in Eddie’s small gestures. He feels safe with him.

And that makes him feel nauseous. 

Buck’s war between his head and heart. The weird decision to even bring his heart into this. The gut wrenching, claustrophobic constriction that happens when he lets himself feel this...this peace with Eddie—because of Eddie. 

Buck nods mutely, words lumped into a ball in his throat that leave him dry and dizzy. In need of a way to say what he feels or push them deeper into his stomach. 

“Hurry up. I’m dying for some coffee.” Eddie bounces up, his hand dropping from Buck’s shoulder, and effectively disrupting Buck’s internal panic. He watches Eddie’s retreating form, watches the grin on his face as he stops to chat with Hen and Chim before bounding upstairs. 

_Today will be a good day. You will keep everyone you love safe. Today will be a good day._

//////

“What the hell were you thinking, Buckley?” Cap’s booming voice sounds behind him, and he barely turned around before Bobby is right in front of him—behind him?—demanding an explanation. 

Buck doesn’t have one though. Not a good one at least. If he was honest, he’s not sure what possessed him to go back inside the crumbling building. He was a part of the briefing outside when they were told how unstable the structure was. He was there when Cap told him and Eddie that they had five minutes, if that, to rescue any survivors. He was there for the entire safety warning, and Eddie’s fist bump before they went inside. He and Eddie know what the bump means. It means work quickly and work safely. No funny business is what the bump means. 

So why did he go back inside after being told all of that? Buck wasn’t sure. Somewhere in his brain he’s telling himself that he was just doing what needed to be done. That it was his job to help people. That this is what he did best—the only thing he was good at. Another part of him knew it was for stranger reasons. None of which had to do with being a firefighter, or Eddie being inside. Reasons beyond Buck’s grasp at the moment. Reasons he wasn’t sure he wanted to come to terms with. 

So when Bobby approached him with _that_ look—the one that said he was ready to blow steam out of his ears—Buck clammed up. He swallowed a couple of times trying and failing to get any words at all to come out. 

And when he finally did get his tongue to unstick from the roof of his mouth, he couldn’t make any sense. “The boy, Bobby. The boy! I heard...I don’t know what I—but I did! I heard...something.” 

Bobby reaches out for Buck, settling a hand on his shoulder, “Buck! What boy? There’s no boy.” 

“I heard… I know I did.” 

“Buck, pull yourself together. You need to get checked out.” Bobby steers him toward Hen and Chim who’re finishing their examination of Eddie. They regard him strangely, like he’s grown a second head. Hell, maybe he has. He thought he’d heard a boy call out for him—call his name. 

He sits beside Eddie in the back of the ambulance, letting Hen look him over. She bandaged a couple of scrapes and scratches on his face and hands, trying to stop the blood pouring from them first. He cursed, hating the damn meds he had to take. He hated needing them in the first place. 

“You look okay, Buck. Just make sure, well, you know the drill with the bandages by now.” Hen says, a small smile on her face. He can see the pity there. The pity for his fuck up over going back into the house, and pity for his condition with the meds. He didn’t want her pity. He didn’t want anything from them. He wanted to do his job, and he wanted to do it better than anyone else that could potentially replace him. 

Fear overtook Buck’s body making him tremble slightly at the possibility of the reprimand that he could face. What was he saying? He’d definitely be reprimanded for this. He disobeyed direct orders from Cap, and from the way Cap was yelling when he finally escaped the collapsing building, he would be in serious trouble. He hated how childlike that sounded. To say he’d be in trouble. It fit though considering everyone only thought of him as a big man-child anyways. 

The ride back to the station was quiet. No chatting or berating him. Hen sat in silence. Chim’s eyes bounced around wildly. Eddie stared at Buck from in front of him, occasionally knocking his knee on the bumpy ride. Bobby never looked away from the road. 

_—you’re exhausting—_

He wanted to kick himself for bringing his own issues into the call. He wanted to bang his head against a wall or have Eddie use him as a punching bag. 

Buck wished for a lot of things constantly. He wished he’d never been on that fire truck, blown to hell and pinned underneath it. He wished his body would work the same way. He wished his bum fucking leg wouldn’t get all stiff or sore from too much work or too little.

He wished he could blame the accident for all of his fuck ups. Like the accident knocked some things around in his head, and he literally couldn’t do anything right. (Unfortunately he couldn’t blame that on anything medical.) 

Buck just wished that for once he didn’t have screw up parents. That maybe he would’ve turned out a little better if his parents had loved him a little more. He wished he’d had someone around when he was younger to teach him the way to feel things and not let it consume you. To be normal and happy. 

Buck wished for a lot of things. He wished for someone to see him, see his silent pleading for help, see his tattered insides. He wished for a family of his own that loved him unconditionally, no matter how many times he fucked up. He wished for sleep at night and mental stability in the morning. 

The point was that Buck had a lot of things he wished for, and not a lot of luck with any of them coming true. 

//////

Buck stepped up to Eddie’s door promptly at six-thirty, hesitating for a moment before knocking. He can hear the tv blaring with Christopher’s happy squeals as he undoubtedly plays one of the video games Eddie and Buck purchased for him a couple of months ago. If there was one thing in life Buck could count on, it was Chris’s love for playing games with him and Eddie. 

The door swings open at the exact moment Buck straight face morphed into something similar to a goofy grin. Eddie eyed him oddly, opening his mouth to say something. Chris burst through the door before Eddie could get out whatever he was thinking, and Buck took the opportunity to kneel in front of Chris. Without thinking he pulls him into a hug—the kind of hug that you give when you need reassurance everything is okay. Fortunately Chris never says a word. He lets Buck cling to him like he knows, like he understands, why Buck reacts this way every time he sees him. 

Maybe Chris needs the hug just as much as Buck does. 

“Okay, come on. The pizza’s getting cold.” Eddie interrupts with a chuckle. 

“Alright, you heard the boss.” Buck salutes Eddie, soliciting a generous giggle from Chris, and the two men follow him to the kitchen. 

Buck grabs himself and Eddie a beer from the pack he brought then deposits the rest into the refrigerator, grabbing Chris’s “special” juice as well. Buck and Eddie started calling it—apple juice—his special juice when Chris started asking for a beer with them. They decided to make Chris feel part of the fun when Eddie let him have a little juice at dinner with them. It made Chris happy which made Buck and Eddie feel happy. 

“Buck, guess where we’re going at school?” Chris yells from the table, wobbling as he tries to sit in his chair at an angle he just can’t manage. 

Eddie frowns at him, “Be careful, Christopher.”

“Where are you going?”

Chris, ignoring his dad, almost falls in his excitement which makes Eddie flash him a look. “To the zoo! I’m excited. I want to see the lions.”

Buck smiles fondly, “Are the lions your favorite?”

“Yeah because they’re the strongest just like you and daddy.” Chris says it so matter of factly that even Buck believes him for a moment. 

He chances a glance at Eddie who’s smiling at Chris with so much adoration his chest starts to itch again. That same odd feeling he gets around Eddie that makes his body break out in hives and itch like crazy. That same heaviness he's started to experience everyday of his life. 

“Chris, I don’t know what your dad has told you,” Buck starts, face serious as he addresses Chris, “but Eddie Diaz is no match for me.” He flashes him a smile, “If I’m a lion, your dad is probably an antelope.”

Chris giggles, and Eddie clutches his chest in mock offense, “Are you equating me to a lion’s food?”

Buck holds his hands up in surrender, “Would you rather be a gazelle?”

Eddie lets out a snort, tossing a pepperoni at him, a grin stretching across his face, “Chris, don’t listen to this nonsense.” 

Buck ducks his head, pretending to search for the lost pepperoni, but in reality he’s trying to hide the dopey grin that crossed his face at Eddie’s playfulness. Buck’s struggling. He can’t keep up with all of the feelings he has lately. The guilt that overtakes him when he feels anything as small as joy which he feels often around the Diaz boys. 

He can’t explain the pain he feels around Eddie. The pain doesn’t start out that way. It builds slowly and morphs into that same chest constricting heaviness that pins him under its weight. Being with Eddie is like that. He’s essential for his health, and yet he’s the thing slowly killing him everyday. The way Eddie cares for Chris, the way Eddie goes out of his way for Buck, the way he has forgiven him for unforgivable things. 

Eddie makes him feel centered, grounded, yet at the same time he twirls Buck so off balance he doesn’t think he’ll ever be right again… Until he is, and it’s Eddie righting him, settling him back on his feet and making sure he’s okay. Buck has never had an Eddie before. He means he’s never had a friend like Eddie before. Someone that was able to see through his bullshit to who he really is. Someone that wanted more from him. Someone that wasn’t satisfied with all of his reckless behavior. Eddie demanded more from Buck. He held him accountable and made him feel responsible for all of his decisions. 

Buck might credit Abby to his otherwise switch in personality, but he knows, deep in his mind, that Eddie deserves some of that credit too. Without him, Buck wouldn’t have met Christopher. He wouldn’t have been able to see the world through his eyes, and Chris saw the true beauty of the world. He didn’t let his disability weigh him down like Buck did. He’s learning. Slowly. Learning at a snail's pace to follow the Diaz family motto: _suck it up._

Eddie and Chris start gathering plates and garbage together, and Buck knows that’s his cue to help clean up the mess. The three of them make quick work of everything, and they’re sat on the couch together with a movie on the tv within twenty minutes. Buck and Eddie settle in on each side of Christopher with a beer in hand. Christopher guards the popcorn in his lap, moving it away from the men and giggling when they pout for the precious snack. 

Eddie slings his arm on the back of the couch, and Buck can feel his fingertips graze his shoulder lightly, before yanking back like he’d been shocked. Buck pretends—more pretending—like he didn’t even notice, but he can _feel_ Eddie’s eyes on him. Staring at his profile while he watches the tv, and by “watch” Buck really means stare and retain nothing. Good thing there isn’t a quiz on this movie. 

About forty minutes into the movie, Chris announces an intermission, stating he needs a potty break, which is actually perfect timing since Buck’s leg is getting stiff. He needs to stand and walk around for a few minutes. 

“You need any help, buddy?” Buck asks, helping him stand.

Chris shakes his head, “I can do it by myself, Bucky.”

He never tired of hearing Chris call him that. He enjoys a nickname that only he uses. It makes him feel special. “Okay, little man.”

As soon as Chris leaves the room, and the men hear the bathroom door click, Eddie turns to Buck, folding one of his legs under him, “So, what’s going on with you?”

Buck deposits his beer on the side table, discreetly stretching his legs out in hopes he can rid the soreness this way instead of making a scene. 

_—you’re exhausting—_

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re being...weird lately. Are you sleeping okay?” Eddie locks eyes with him, an unrelenting stare that questions every fiber of Buck’s being. He can’t hide. He can’t shy away. He can only submit. 

But he won’t. Not to Eddie. “Yeah, man. I’m fine.”

Eddie frowns at him, and only then does he let his eyes fall to the floor, “You know you can talk to me, Buck. If you need anything.”

_—you’re exhausting—_

Buck forces a smile, “Yeah, Eddie, I know.” He picks at the label on his beer then says, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you like me or something?” 

Eddie snorts out a laugh, knocking him in the shoulder, “Whatever. You know mushy isn’t my thing. It’s yours.”

“Yeah, you suck at it. Leave it to the professionals, Eds.”

“Alright, let's get this party started! Again.” Chris shouts with a giggle as he renters the living room, a megawatt smile lighting up his face. He falls between Buck and Eddie again, trying to snuggle into both of them. Buck smiles down at him. 

Maybe tonight won’t be so bad. 


	2. pieces on the ground from the world that fell apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> if you wait until you’re ready, you’ll be waiting your entire life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I told you I’d update soon. Surprise! 
> 
> I am so overwhelmed by the love you guys have given just the first chapter. I can’t tell you how nervous I was to post and reading all of your comments really made all of that disappear. So thank you. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this second part. It’s a little shorter, but be patient with me. It only goes up from here.

“That was nuts,” Buck states as they trot up the stairs to grab a late breakfast. 

Buck’s talking about their first call of the shift. Bobby had enlisted Buck in helping with breakfast since he was happy to offer himself up on a wooden stake for anybody in the firehouse. Buck was sure that by now the other firefighters and paramedics had noticed his intentions and started to take advantage, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be upset about it. Rather him than someone else. 

Before breakfast was even finished, the alarm rang throughout the station, and Bobby was ushering Buck down the stairs, motioning for the others to hurry up. 

“I know. Makes me rethink signing Denny up for ball soon,” Hen shudders, grabbing a mug and filling it quickly. 

“You know in 1862 a man named Jim Creighton died from a ruptured bladder like this guy.” Buck pauses, scrunching his nose, “Well, it wasn’t instant. It took four days for him to die.” 

Buck snatches a danish from the box on the counter, blowing slightly so the excess crumbs scatter about. He goes for a bite, pausing when he realizes all eyes are on him. The flush that creeps over his face embarrasses him even more than he already is. 

“Why do you know that?” Hen asks, lips pursed in question. Eddie chooses that moment to move past him, reaching over his chest to grab his own pastry, and he backs away quickly when Eddie’s arm brushes his chest. Eddie gives him an odd look—eyebrows furrowed, scowl in its rightful place. 

Buck switches his gaze to Hen, “I just like reading. Can’t remember where I read it though.”

“Maddie says you weren’t always like that,” Chim has joined the group, stealing his own danish and cup of coffee. 

“I’ve always liked trivia. It just got worse after…,” Buck hesitates, trailing off awkwardly. He lifts his eyes to Eddie’s who (of course) is regarding him with an understanding that he doesn’t really comprehend. 

“The tsunami?” Chim pipes up, clearly unable to read the room. 

“Yeah.”

The bell sounds before anyone can finish their breakfast or coffee which earns a collective groan even in the truck. 

But Buck… He’s grateful. He needs this distraction. He needs to be here—present and focused. He’s tired of thinking about that damn tsunami. 

//////

Buck’s never been one to work out unnecessarily. Sure, he’s fit, and he does the required amount to stay in peak condition for his job, but he’s never—never ever—thought of exercise as something fun or a potential hobby. That’s why when he searches on several sites that all say exercise is a good stress reliever, a good way to work through your issues, Buck finds himself spending extra time in the gym at the firehouse. 

When he’s not on shift, he’s running or using playground equipment to get in a workout. For him it’s less about the actual workout benefit than it is about getting his mind off of all his problems. He likes when he pushes his body to the point of numbness. He doesn’t have to think. He doesn’t have to feel. It’s the best he’s felt in a long time. 

This is a punishment for him. Pushing his limits until he’s sure he’ll reinjure himself. This is his punishment. 

He finds he’s distancing himself from Eddie more and more. Every time he feels that all consuming tightness start to take over, he gets the hell out of dodge. Unfortunately that means he hasn’t seen Christopher as much lately either, and that’s really messing with his head. 

Every single night he’s waking up gasping for air and clutching at something to keep him grounded. His heart cries out for Eddie and Christopher because, as much as he hates to admit it, the Diaz boys have a way of making him feel centered.

But at the same time Eddie can flip him upside down, shaking his head and garbling his thoughts until he feels crazy, and then he’s able to right him again. It’s like Buck’s fucked up head can’t decide if he should stay away from him, or if he needs him.

Either way Buck is drowning in all of his feelings. His feelings of guilt, the occasional feelings of joy, or even the feelings of anger. When does the constant self-deprivation end for him? When can he just feel fucking normal again? Hell, Buck couldn’t even remember what the fuck that felt like. Will he even be able to help himself out of this giant clusterfuck of self pity? 

Too many questions and not enough answers. Not enough problem solving. 

So he thinks deeper and runs faster. 

//////

Buck was certain that he’s a glutton for punishment. An absolute glutton for the things that make his head fuzzy and his chest tight. There’s no other explanation for how dumb he can be. How he can make such bad decisions constantly. And if he’s honest, he’d like to think that if he were a little smarter he might not even be in this situation to begin with. Yeah, Buck could go along with that. If only he were a little smarter…

But he’s not. Obviously. And that’s why he’s sitting on Eddie’s couch—sans Christopher who’s staying with his Abuela for the night—nursing the same beer he’s had since he arrived two hours ago. He lost the ability to taste it after an hour passed, but it warmed quickly in his hot, clammy hands. Buck was nervous—nervous like he’d never been before—which confused the hell out of him. 

I mean this was Eddie after all. Buck couldn’t count on his fingers and toes plus Eddie’s how many times he’d sat on this same couch and played video games or watched movies with the Diaz boys. This is the same Eddie that he’s worked with for more than a year. He’s faced dangerous calls and life-threatening situations with him. This is the same Eddie that comforted him when Doug came for Maddie and let him see Santa with him and Chris. Buck was there when Shannon came back, and he was there when she died. Buck and Eddie have been best friends since they almost blew up in the back of an ambulance. 

So why does he feel so damn uncomfortable here lately? 

Eddie squirmed on the seat beside him, “That sucked. Next time you don’t get to pick.”

Buck sipped his drink, instantly wishing he hadn’t, “I don’t know why it takes you so long to figure out I’ll always pick the worst one.”

Eddie laughs, “But why? You’re worse than Christopher.” He drains the rest of his beer and stands, “You need another?”

“Nah, I should be heading home soon.” Even as Buck says it, he’s dreading being alone for the night. He’s dreading laying down in his own bed. 

Eddie hollers from the kitchen, “You can just crash on the couch, man.”

Buck closes his eyes. Any other time Eddie wouldn’t even have to tell him to stay, he just would. With a shake of his head he resigns himself to the simple fact that things aren’t what they have been. Things aren’t the same. Maybe for Eddie, but not for Buck. 

“Thanks, but after that long shift, I’m dying for my own bed.” 

Eddie returns, plopping down on the couch again and immediately propping his feet on the coffee table. “I love Chris, but I’m excited to sleep in.”

“What? You mean you don’t like getting up before the sun? I’m shocked, Eds.”

His answering laugh is enough to draw a small smile out of Buck. “Yeah, jackass. Maybe I’ll call you, so you can come entertain him instead.”

“We do need to finish building that fire truck I bought.”

“See, that’s why he loves you so much. You’re practically a child yourself,” Eddie’s resounding chuckle makes Buck squirm. He hates it when people say that about him. He’s not a child. 

“Nothing childish about playing with your kid, Eddie,” Buck snaps. 

Immediately Buck’s eyes widen, and he’s standing, clearly thrown by the anger rising in him. Evan Buckley wasn’t one to snap at people. He took the brunt of other people’s anger, and he did it well. He didn’t like confrontation. He didn’t want confrontation, especially with Eddie. Eddie was the last person on this green Earth that Buck should be allowed to get angry with. 

_—you’re exhausting—_

“Sorry, man, I don’t know what—,” Buck starts.

“What’s going on with you lately, Buck?”

“I’m just a little tired after this shift.”

Eddie scoffs, “Do you know who you’re talking to? I’m the expert at putting on a happy face for everyone else.” 

“Is that what you call that constant scowl? Eddie, I think it’s time someone was honest with you…” 

“I’m also an expert on deflecting with vague answers.” Eddie responds while setting his beer on the table beside Buck’s half empty bottle. That’s right, half empty, Buck’s feeling pessimistic lately. 

Buck forces a smile, “You’re an expert in a lot of things these days. You think you could become an expert in cooking? Ya know, something useful.”

“Really?” Eddie reluctantly chuckles but sobers quickly again, “When has there ever been something you couldn’t talk to me about?”

“If there was something to talk about, you know I’d come to you first, Eddie.” _Liar. Liar._

“Would you?” Eddie questions more to himself than really at Buck. It’s a quiet whisper as he slips his bottle back into his hands, twirling the neck around haphazardly. “We’re okay, right?”

The question startles Buck momentarily. That’s when he realizes just how serious Eddie’s worry is. He can see the hesitation and worry written all over him. It’s in the downturn of his mouth and the darkness of his eyes. Buck feels that weight slowly unfurling itself over his shoulders, pushing him deeper into his carefully constructed hole. 

“Yeah, man. There’s nothing to worry about.” 

//////

Buck spends the whole night awake for very different reasons than he’s usually had lately. There’s no nightmare or panic attacks. There’s no drowning or being pinned underneath another fire truck. No, tonight Buck is spared from his twisted mind. 

Instead he’s overrun with a constant tingle throughout his body. Not a good tingle. A tingle that makes him nauseous and anxious. He spends hours thinking about how he lied to his best friend. How easily he let himself lie and say he was fine. Buck was fine, wasn’t he? He felt fine. Just a little sad maybe, but nothing that required such heaviness. He’d get over it soon. Soon he’d stop having nightmares and this tightness. 

After a couple of hours the guilt started gnawing at him, eating away at him faster than he could understand. His tingle turned into a dull ache that made him physically sore, and for a moment—a single, desperate moment—he wanted to trade this massive regret with his regularly scheduled nightmares. That’s how hefty this was. That’s how much it weighed him down. 

Betraying Eddie had its own gravity that refused to be ignored. 

Could Buck really call it a betrayal? He thought it definitely felt that way. It felt like disloyalty in its finest form. And it made Buck feel like he had to right his wrongs. At first Buck justified himself by saying it was just a little lie, but the more he probed and questioned himself, the more he realized he wasn’t okay. The more he reveled in the brokenness of it all, the more he realized just how _big_ his _little_ lie really was. 

//////

“What did you want to talk about, Buck?” 

Buck watched Bobby scribble on a clump of papers in front of him. Bobby liked to get ahead on his stacks and stacks of paperwork, and even though Buck offered to help several times, he always rejected the help. Kind of like Buck has been doing. 

Buck hesitated. What did he come in here for? Oh, right. That nagging, nauseating feeling in the pit of his stomach that refused to let him eat, or sleep, or breathe properly. 

Bobby lifted his head, taking Buck’s nervousness as a bad sign. “Buck, what’s going on?” He dropped the pen, giving Buck all of his attention. Buck noted his eyes narrowing and brows dropping just a hair. That’s how he knew Bobby was giving him his full attention. 

“I don’t really know how to—to say what I’m trying to say here, Cap.” Buck begins, gripping the sides of his chair so hard his knuckles are white. 

Bobby nods, “Okay. That’s okay, Buck. Just say it even if it doesn’t make sense.”

He swallows, “I think I need a little help.”

“Help with what?”

“I’m having—I’m having these...these nightmares, and, and I’m getting this tightness in my chest.” Buck spits out, looking at Bobby’s pen so he doesn’t have to look at his face. 

“I see.” Bobby says quietly. He reaches into his desk, pulling a business card out, then hesitates for a moment. “I think you should start seeing one of the department's therapists. Let’s start there.”

Buck finally lifts his head, catching Bobby’s eyes. His eyes are sad. Buck can tell by the little crinkles beside them. Bobby doesn’t look torn often—torn between being Buck’s boss and his friend. Because at this moment there’s a difference. Buck knows that. That’s actually his reasoning for approaching Bobby this way. 

He doesn’t want to talk to anyone in the house about this. How do you talk to your friends—family—about the bad place you’re in? He doesn’t want to have to admit to Eddie that he not only lied a couple of nights ago, but also that those two little words he yelled at him have made him more insecure than he’s ever been in his life. He doesn’t want to have to explain to Hen and Chim that, even though he appreciates their forgiveness, he can’t forgive himself. He doesn’t know how to even begin a worthy apology to Bobby, a man who’s opinion of him matters more than he cares to admit. Buck doesn’t know how to look at Maddie without feeling like he’s letting her down. Buck doesn’t know how to let go of all of the bullshit. 

_—you’re exhausting—_

The words are tattooed across his soul now. A constant reminding that he’s not the only one in the world with problems. A reminder of how selfish he’d been in the past. 

“Yeah. Let’s—let’s do that.”

Bobby sighs, standing and rounding his desk to sit in the chair beside Buck’s. Without warning, Bobby envelops him in a hug that tugs at his heartstrings. If Buck let himself, he’d breakdown right here. But the moment he feels a tear slip down his cheek, he pushes Bobby away, wiping harshly at his face. 

“Buck…”

“If you get me the papers, I’ll call after shift.” Buck interrupts, breathing loudly. “Thanks, Cap.”

//////

Buck sat in the dull, freezing cold waiting room for what seemed like hours. In reality he’s sure it was only a few minutes, but he could feel his nerves beginning to take over. Lately Buck’s sleep schedule was more thrown off from his incessant overthinking than it was from the actual nightmares which Buck liked to view as a plus even though he was sure it wasn’t. 

Last night he was close to a panic attack from thinking about his first session with Frank today. By three in the morning he was close to hyperventilating, so he went to the little running trail he’s started frequenting. He ran and ran and ran, and now he has a few regrets since his damn legs feel like they’re about to fall off. 

Buck supposed that was an upside to this appointment. He could sit and rest his tender limbs before his shift. 

Bobby informed him a couple of days ago that unless Buck told the others himself, Bobby wouldn’t spill the metaphorical beans. If Buck was honest, he didn’t really know how to act around Bobby anymore. At first he’d avoided him as much as he could which wasn’t a lot since he was the Captain of course. Then he opted to awkwardly pretend he never said anything, and for a couple of hours—yeah, hours—Buck thought he could actually just imagine it never happened. 

Then he noticed Cap making weird, concerned faces at him that he knew the others were noticing as well. Buck could _feel_ their confused looks, and when Hen approached him trying to figure out what the hell was going on, he felt like a giant, flaming ball of shit when he lied to her too. 

Buck felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, and he thought about ignoring it, knowing that whatever it was could in no way cure the enormous frisson of nerves running through his veins. But alas, curiosity got the better of him, and he found himself smiling a big, goofy grin at the screen. 

**Eddie Diaz, 1:58pm:** Chris’s latest masterpiece. He said to tell you he misses you.

The picture was of the three of them. Eddie was holding one of Chris’s hands while Buck was holding the other. The background had a fire truck and what Buck assumed to be the Diaz home. He was actually pretty impressed with the drawing, and if he looked close enough, he could see where Chris drew a little birthmark on his eye for him. His heart beat uncomfortably the longer he stared at the image. 

**Evan Buckley, 2:03pm:** I miss you too, little man. Thanks for the accurate birthmark.

**Eddie Diaz, 2:04pm:** Do you want to come over before shift and see him?

Yes! Buck wanted to scream. Yes, he wants to see Christopher so bad his heart aches, but he can’t. He decided to focus on his health all of a sudden. 

**Evan Buckley, 2:06pm:** I can't. Lots of errands to run before.

Buck doesn’t make any promise to come see him another time. He doesn’t elaborate on his reasons for not coming by. He’s not ready to bare himself to Eddie yet. He’s not ready for the inevitable lecture to suck it up. He’s just not ready. 

“Evan Buckley?”

His head snaps up. 

But he understands that if he waits until he’s ready, he’ll be waiting the rest of his life. The truth is that unless he lets go, unless he forgives himself, he’ll never be able to move on. 

And for that, Buck is ready. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you guys think? I love encyclopedia evan buckley. *hawt*
> 
> If you think things are moving fast, they aren’t. Trust the process. 😉


	3. just hold on

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i know you are but what am i

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update schedule? What update schedule? *nervous laughter* As long as I’m pumping out chapters as fast as I am, I’m just going to update as I see fit. I’m not a fan of waiting a week to post honestly. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I do. 
> 
> I’m still starting a little slow, but I’m hoping I can start getting around 5k words in each chapter. Right now though since it’s the beginning it feels a little overwhelming to just info dump like that. But all in good time.
> 
> Happy reading!

“You ready to get started, Evan?” 

“Buck. Just Buck. That’s what everyone calls me.” 

“Okay, Buck, how about we start simple? How’re you feeling today?”

Buck stares at him—Frank—opening his mouth then clamping it shut. Out of all the questions Buck thought he’d be asked, it never occurred to him that  _ that _ would be one of them. He thinks back to the rehearsed answers he went through in the lobby to every question under the sun he thought might be asked of him. He didn’t have an answer ready for this one.

“No pressure, Buck. Just speak freely.”

Buck nods slowly. Speak freely about how he felt? How did he feel? He answers in a shrug, “Okay, I guess?”

Frank presses on, “Tell me about work. Any difficult calls?”

“Not really. Work is work.”

“You recently started at the one-eighteen again, isn’t that right? How’s that going?” Frank asks, clearly accepting Buck’s half hearted answers.

He swallows, “It’s been good.” And after a second he sighs, “I’m just happy to be back.”

“That was an ordeal.” Frank states.

“Yeah, I wish I could take the whole thing back.” Buck scrubs his hands over his face, feeling his body and mind start to loosen to Frank. It’s not as bad as he thought it’d be. He’s uncomfortable, but that’s to be expected, right?

Frank cocks his head to look at Buck with a trace of genuine curiosity, “Why’s that?” 

An obnoxious, humorless laugh bubbles out of Buck, “Because I might’ve gotten my job back, but I lost my friends and colleagues respect in the process.”

Frank just nods for a moment which only makes Buck’s leg bounce with nervous energy. 

“What I mean is things aren’t the same.” Buck explains. “I don’t think they’ll ever be.” 

“That’s interesting. Why do you think your team doesn’t respect you? Did you speak with,” he looks down, “one of them about this?” 

“I don’t have to,” Buck shakes his head. “I can just...feel it. Things are tense.”

“Who’s tense, Buck?”

Buck comes to a standstill for a moment. His leg stops bouncing, and his brow furrows as he thinks back to all of his interactions with the team since Buck’s return to the one-eighteen and the unexplainable decline of his mental health. Sure, at first everyone was tense, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized that, for the most part, things have taken on a sense of normalcy. It was Buck who struggled to find that balance again. 

Was Eddie tense outside of work? Buck wasn’t sure if he’s honest. It’d be really easy to blame everything on Eddie. For him to pin everything on the one person that made Buck feel like his insides were on the outside. For him to say Eddie was the one straining their relationship, but that just wasn’t the case right now. 

It was Buck. It was always Buck. He knew just how to build a separation between himself and the things he cared about. He was good that way. 

“No. The team is, well, the team. We work well together.” Buck says to the floor instead of Frank. He finds himself counting and tracing the pattern of the carpet instead, focusing on this small, insignificant detail, and slowly he finds himself calming down. 

“What do you think that means then?” Frank’s line of questioning from anyone else would make Buck get defensive and argumentative. Instead of wanting to object and puff out his chest against him, he really allows himself to think about things. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t really know Frank. Maybe that’s why he finds himself being a little more open about how he feels.

He absentmindedly follows the carpet pattern again when he whispers to himself, “What do I think? What does it mean?” He swallows, flicking his eyes to Frank’s, “I think that it must be me, right? That—that I’m the problem.”

“Problem? That’s an intriguing way to put it.” 

“I know that I can be...exhausting. I know that everyone else has problems, and I just need to suck it up. I just—,” Buck exhales roughly, scrubbing his hands over his face, “I can’t figure out how to—to stop feeling all of it.”

Frank is silent which draws Buck’s attention to him—ever curious to figure out the issue. When his eyes meet Frank’s though, he’s taken aback. Not just Buck, but Frank is too. He’s genuinely astonished, and maybe even a little sad, at Buck’s words which only adds to his confusion. 

Frank sniffed, casting his eyes down then back to Buck, “I have a few things I’m curious about, Evan.” He scans his notepad, “We’ll start slow. I’m curious about that word you used. Exhausting? I’ve heard a lot of different phrases in my years, but this is relatively new to me.”

“Not what I would’ve gone with either, Doc.”

“So someone said this to you? Or insinuated?”

Buck sighs, “Eddie and I got into it during the lawsuit. I, I just wanted him to see my side, you know?” Frank nods, encouraging him to continue, “He couldn’t though. He told me that I was—that I  _ am _ exhausting.”

Frank’s eyes widen briefly before he straightens his features again. He clears his throat, “Eddie? As in Diaz?”

“That’s the one.”

“Have you spoken with him about how this has made you feel?”

Buck snorts, “Eddie isn’t exactly the type to talk your feelings out with.” He lowers his voice, “Not that he’d care.” 

“Why wouldn’t he care? You’re his best friend as you say.” Frank asks.

“It’s not that he wouldn’t  _ care _ , I guess. It’s more like...I just don’t think—,” he struggles,trying to figure out himself what he’s trying to say. “He wouldn’t...apologize because I don’t think he would feel sorry.” Buck managed, still wondering if he’s getting his wording right. 

Frank nods, “So Eddie is the type to “suck it up” as you said?”

“That’s the Diaz family motto.”

Frank scribbles something in his notes then focuses back on Buck, “Let’s revisit Eddie. I’d like to delve a little deeper into that relationship if that’s okay?”

“Uh, sure?” Buck doesn’t really care what they talk about as long as the good doctor can fix him. 

“Let’s talk about something else you said before your session is up.” Frank says. “You said you don’t know how to stop feeling it all… Tell me what you’re feeling when you say that.”

Buck swallows, “A lot of guilt, I think.”

“Guilt for?”

“Where do I start? Aren’t we low on time?” Buck sits up, leaning to look at the clock above the door. 

Frank smiles softly, “The point of this session and the following sessions is to talk about the things you’re feeling, Buck. Right now, you’re at a low point, and that’s okay. From the file your Captain sent over, it looks like you’ve been through a lot.” He pauses, “But that file only tells me your work history. It doesn’t tell me what happened with your friends and family outside of work.”

“It feels like they’re almost one in the same lately.” Buck remarks. 

“That can be your homework then.”

Buck startles, “Homework?”

“I want you to do something that has nothing to do with the fire house, or your colleagues. Do something for yourself.” Frank says, finding his hands in his lap. 

“Like what?” He booms incredulously. 

“What does Evan Buckley like to do for fun?” Frank questions, eyes narrowing slightly. 

The timer on Frank’s desk sounds loudly in the room, cutting through the tension Buck has felt throughout the entire session. Instantly his shoulders relax and his heart returns to a normal, acceptable rate. 

He leaves with that burning question. What does he do for fun? He hangs out with Eddie and Chris. That’s out. He has dinner with Bobby and Athena. That’s out too. Is Maddie off limits since Chim will inevitably be there? Buck didn’t think to ask in the office, but now he’s unsure. 

What does Evan Buckley like to do for fun?

//////

_ “911, what’s your emergency?” _

_ “Oh, my god! You need to get here quick! The whole place is in flames!” _

_ “Okay, ma’am. What’s your location?” _

_ “3432 Highland Street. Hurry!” _

_ “Help is on the way, ma’am.” _

/////

It took a few hours to get the raging fire completely under control. By the time the team was ready to pack it up and head back to the station, Buck was drenched in sweat, covering him in a grimy layer that made him feel nasty. 

He wasn’t the only one either. He scanned the others, noting Eddie’s sooty face and Bobby’s flush from the heat. It had taken all hands on deck to contain the fire, and even though they tried their best and saved any civilians trapped inside, the structure did not survive. It collapsed forty-five minutes after they arrived. Buck felt less guilty considering it wasn’t someone’s home, but he still felt bad for small business owners who just lost a hell of a lot of money. 

Chim and Hen beat the others back to the station, all too ready to end the incredibly long shift. Buck, on the other hand, hadn’t met his quota yet. He was still buzzing with energy, and if he left now, it would turn sour. 

Buck also didn’t want to think about the little nagging question that’s bothered him since yesterday’s therapy session. He’d spent all shift trying like hell to keep his mind clear and unworried about just how much his life revolves around the one-eighteen. If he let himself think about it, his energy—the energy that was probably already soured; let's be honest—curdled like bad milk in his stomach. He wondered if this is how he’d feel after every session… And if it was, why would he want to go back?

“Hey, want to get a drink?” 

Eddie called out to Buck from the doorway of the locker room. Buck had stripped his button down and tee off, ready to stick his head under the hot stream of water for  _ at least _ twenty minutes. 

Buck flounders for an excuse, “What about Chris?” 

Eddie strips his top off, grabbing his clean clothes from his locker, “Don't have to pick him up until the morning.”

“Aw, no sleeping in for the princess?” Buck teases. 

“Ha,” Eddie rolls his eyes, “You want a drink or not?”

“Or not.” Buck won’t meet his eyes. He doesn’t want to. “You have no idea how happy I am to go home to my bed.”

Eddie nods in agreement, “You are still planning to come by Sunday to help Chris with that fire truck like you told him, right?” Eddie chuckles, “That’s all he’s talked about this week.”

Buck smiles his first genuine smile of the day, “Yeah, of course.” His smile stretches wider, “I think I’ll get the police car next.”

“He automatically loves anything you get him.”

“Is that jealousy I’m hearing in your tone? A little envy?” Buck asks, cocking his head to the side and scrunching his nose.

“You’re a dick, you know that, Buckley?” Eddie states, trying to sound angry but ultimately failing when his lips tilt upwards into a small grin. 

They fiddle in their lockers for a moment before Buck closes his, turning to stare at Eddie’s profile. 

“I know you are, but what am I?”

//////

Buck’s not really sure what he thought would happen after his shift when he was able to return to his own home. He kind of assumed the night would be easier since he’d talked about his feelings and shit, but if anything it felt harder. Like not only did he have to worry and agonize over his nightmares, but now he had homework to think about. 

Homework might be too generous of a word. Buck normally has no problems going out. The struggle with Frank’s request isn’t so much the  _ doing _ , but what to actually do. Because Buck thought hard on what it was exactly that he liked. He likes video games and the occasional beer. He also likes trivia, or useless knowledge as Chim calls it. Is that what Frank meant? That Buck should play video games, drink beer, and learn more trivial facts? 

That didn’t seem right. 

He felt so clueless he took to the internet, typing ‘hobbies’ into the search bar. He clicked the first link, finding several options to solve his crisis. The list was pretty basic—and yet Buck couldn’t think of a single one on his own—listing things like sports, music, and travel as the top ones. 

He scrolled down further, clicking on a link that looked promising. He found much of the same: sports, music, travel. He scrolled past those, venturing into the less popular hobbies, when one caught his eye. 

_ Volunteer Work  _

He typed that into the search bar, finding hundreds of volunteering programs scattered across LA. There were so many different types of volunteering Buck could do. Hell, he could do them all if he wanted to. He could fill out applications for every single program. 

And just like that he felt excited about something for the first time in a long time. He felt eager to help now that he’d decided on his after-work activity without the crew. And he didn’t let the all too familiar heaviness, that immediately settled on him, weigh him down. He let it be the driving force for his need to be better, to do better. 

That night he stayed up filling out an application for a child advocacy program. He thought about how much he loved kids, especially Chris, and how good it’ll feel to help. His application looked great by the time he had finished. Did it give him extra brownie points to know he worked for the LAFD? He hoped so. 

Buck felt a pulling at his chest later, something unfamiliar, and dare he say pleasant? He tried not to dwell on it in fear that he’d disturb it and bring the dreaded tightness back. He just let himself have this moment. 

That night when he finally finished his endeavor and laid his head on his pillow, he was out in minutes. He didn’t have to toss and turn and force his eyes shut for an hour. He just fell asleep, peacefully, which would’ve startled him if he weren’t, well, in deep sleep. 

Maybe it won’t be such a bad night after all. 

//////

“Hey, little man!”

“Buck!”

Chris threw himself into Buck’s arms as soon as he crossed the threshold, and Buck swore to himself that he’d never grow tired of the feeling of Chris Diaz’s tiny arms wound tightly around his neck. 

“D’you miss me?” Buck asked, hoisting him into his arms to carry further into the house. 

“I’d say so.” Eddie said from the living room, coming to meet them in the kitchen, “All I’ve heard today is Buck this and Buck that. I don’t know about you, Chris, but I’m getting real tired of this Buck fellow.”

Chris giggled, wiggling out of Buck's arms. Buck leaned back in mock offense, hand clutching at his chest, “You want to hurt me?”

“Buck! Come on!”

Chris took off as fast as his little legs would take him to the coffee table in the living room where Eddie laid out the fire truck parts for them. He smiled at the site, loving the way Chris sat on the floor, making sure he left room for Buck, and ran his fingers over the pieces. 

Buck sniffed and placed his fists on his hips, “Duty calls.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie waved his hand dismissively then turned to go back into the kitchen, stirring something on the stove. That can’t be good, Buck thought. 

“Buck! Look, I put these pieces together!” Chris exclaimed happily from his spot on the floor, and Buck moved to join him, lowering his long frame to carpet to squeeze into the space Chris left. 

He smiled at the little boy, “Wow. What if we put your piece on—,” Buck took a moment to put his own couple of pieces together, “on this piece?”

Chris nodded, happy to go along with anything Buck suggested. 

They worked together to finish the truck which ended up being more complicated than Buck realized it would be. Eddie came out of the kitchen a couple of times to hand them a drink, or comment on how the fire truck was coming along—or not coming along. He didn’t stay long. Just enough time to make small talk then sequester himself back in the kitchen. 

If Buck wasn’t so caught up in himself—and the model truck—he’d have realized something was off with Eddie right then. He’d have stopped messing with the truck and talked to him. But he didn’t notice, too caught up in his own issues. 

Chris sighed heavily, “This is too hard. I don’t think we’ll ever finish.”

Buck scoffed, “Oh, no. We will work on this until I die if we have to. I refuse to give up.”

This earns a laugh from him and a small one from Eddie in the other room. 

“We could stop and save the rest for next time?” Chris suggested, drawing his words out with a tone that made Buck frown. 

He put the piece together in his hand the set it down, “If you don’t like the truck, Chris, that’s okay. We can do something else.”

“No! I like my fire truck.”

Buck ruffled his hair, sliding his hand to Chris’s shoulder, “What’s wrong, buddy?”

Chris sighed, “If we finish, when will you come back?”

Buck chuckled, “What do you mean? I’m here all the time.”

“Not anymore. You’re never here anymore.” Chris said sadly.

Something in Buck’s chest squeezed uncomfortably. His jaw ticked, and he thought back to how often he’d turned Eddie down when he asked him to come over. In his mind he’d been doing what was best for him without thinking, as usual, about how it would affect everyone around him. He didn’t think about Chris. He thought about how much Buck would miss him, but not the other way around. 

Buck pulled him into a hug, “I’m sorry, Chris.” That’s all he could say. What else could he say to an eight year old? What else is appropriate to tell him? What would he even understand? 

What would Buck even say? That he’s going through some things? That he has some issues to work out? Oh, maybe Buck could tell him all about his therapy session, and how he talked about Eddie’s hurtful words?

No. He couldn’t say any of that, so he said nothing. 

Eddie hollered for them from the kitchen announcing that dinner was ready, and as if on cue, Buck and Chris groaned at the same time. 

“You ready to eat?”

“Not if daddy’s cooking it.” Chris struggled to a standing position but ultimately made it, “Have the pizza man ready just in case.”

Buck laughed, following behind him. “I got it, man. Don’t worry.”

Eddie lifted a brow, “Don’t worry about what?”

Buck shrugged, “Don't know. We’re not worried about it.”

As Buck sat around the table with Eddie and Chris, he felt that heaviness settle into his chest. He felt the tingle down his spine. He felt it all. He felt everything at the same time. He thought back to just a few minutes ago with Chris and felt that little spark of joy that was quickly overshadowed by something much, much darker. Something that made Buck want to crawl into bed and never leave, and that was saying something considering his nightly routine lately. 

Maybe tonight will be a good night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not even begin to understand the inner workings of being a firefighter, so you’ll be hard pressed to get an *actual* scene like that from me. I don’t like to not know what the heck I’m writing about. 
> 
> How is everyone feeling about it so far? Please let me know!


	4. it won't be long

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What’s bothering you? The penis or that a man broke the penis?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This update took a little longer since quarantine with a one year old is fucking crazy. I just got my first free moment, so here I am!
> 
> A little disclaimer: I am literally talking out of my ass about the big brother big sister program. I have some friends I’ve reached out to to kind of explain it, but no one has gotten back with me, so please understand that it’s probably not going to be correct! 
> 
> This chapter was shorter, but I added a little sumn sumn to it, so I hope you enjoy that!

“I’m glad you came over, Buck.” Maddie smiled at him while setting a bowl of meatballs and sauce on the table. “It’s been entirely too long since I’ve seen you last.”

Buck cleared his throat, “I’ve been busy with work and stuff.”

Which wasn’t a lie. Buck had been extremely busy with work and trying to figure out a hobby without his crew and distancing himself from Eddie and Chris without tearing his own heart in two. Shockingly it was proving harder than he thought to do all of the above. It wasn’t that Buck expected things to just turn around for him when he started seeing Frank—or did he? 

No, he didn’t. Frank assured him at his last appointment before he left that not only would healing from his trauma take time, but that Buck had to be a willing participant in the journey. At first Buck was offended at the mere suggestion that he was anything but willing. Then he realized that his defensiveness toward the topic was probably a clear indication of just how reluctant he was. Buck concluded that it felt like an unconscious reluctance. Like he wasn’t meaning to hold part of himself back. It wasn’t his intention to be resistant toward Frank. Because if the past few days have shown Buck anything, it’s his desire to rid himself of that gnawing feeling in his stomach or the tightness in his chest—maybe even the heaviness on his shoulders? 

He thought after his first session with Frank he might be able to have a decent night of sleep, and because of that he’s gone to bed each night hopeful. Hopeful he won’t be pinned or drowned in his sleep. And yet every night he’s jackknifed out of bed, close to hyperventilating. Two of those nights he went to a nearby playground to run and exercise until he went numb. The other two nights he just laid awake in his bed, staring at the ceiling wondering if he should tell Eddie or not. 

When Buck thinks about it, he knows he’d want to know if Eddie were having nightmares about losing his son over and over again, or being pinned under that flaming fire truck. Buck would be fucking hurt if Eddie didn’t tell him. He’d probably make a big deal about it, and question their friendship for more than a minute. 

But even that line of thinking didn’t force Buck to actually pick up the damn phone those nights. Not even the enormous guilt that practically felt like he was being pinned in real life could make him pick up the phone. And for the life of him, he couldn’t understand why it was such a big deal to tell Eddie? 

Of course, he worried. He worried about Eddie calling him _exhausting_ again. He worried about making his problems someone else’s. But mostly he feels something that he can’t quite put his finger on. Something that makes him nervous and uncomfortable around him. Something that didn’t seem to bother him until recently. Buck has a feeling that whatever it was is the true reason he can’t grow some balls and just tell the man that’s supposed to be his best friend. 

“Earth to Buck? Hello.” Maddie waved a hand in front of his face trying to get his attention. 

“Sorry, what?” 

Maddie rolled her eyes, a playful smile still on her face, “I said to go ahead and start eating.” 

“It looks great, Mads,” Buck says, scooping pasta and meatballs onto his plate. “Though I have to say I think my dessert will be even better.”

Maddie scoffs, “Really? You think your store bought pie is better than all this?” She gestures to her generous spread of food. 

“Okay, whatever. I love that pie.”

She nods heavily, ‘Yes, I know. Eddie tells me you always have a freezer full at any given time.” She places her hand on his, playfully admonishing him, “Honestly it’s just not healthy, Buck.”

“I never claimed to be healthy. I like my diet of pizza, pie, and beer; it’s the dinner of champions.” He pauses to take a sip of his wine, “Hell, it could even be breakfast if you’re into that.”

“How many times a week do you eat like that?” She asks, an incredulous tone seeping out of her at every crevice. 

Buck thought about the answer. He probably had pizza on every single one of his off days. Luckily if he was on shift, Bobby would supply his meals, so he didn’t have to worry about that. But lately Buck couldn’t get himself to stomach more than a couple of bites of anything, so why cook for himself? Why not just order and munch on it for a couple of days?

“I don’t know. Like three or four times?”

She screws her face up in disgust, “God, Buck. You can do better than that.”

— _you’re exhausting—_

Did Maddie feel that way as well? Was she tired of Buck making his problems known? Was she tired of constantly having to reassure him that everything was okay? Maddie had put up with Buck’s shit longer than anyone. She’s been there through it all mostly. Sure, there were those few years where Doug came into play, and he didn’t see her for while. But Maddie knew him. She knew him just as well as Eddie does, so wouldn’t it be logical of Buck to assume she felt the same way?

“Buck, what’s wrong? I was kidding about the pizza and pie.” She says, drawing his attention back toward her, “Well, I wasn’t kidding. That’s very unhealthy, and we need to get you on a better diet, but it’s your choice.”

Buck forced a laugh, “No, Mads, it’s okay. I—I was just thinking.”

She cocks her head slightly, “Must’ve been serious considering you had the biggest frown I’ve ever seen on you.”

“It’s noth—,” Buck stops. Why is he trying to hide himself from Maddie of all people? If Frank could be a fly on the wall right now, he’d ask Buck a million and one questions about why he refuses to speak to his own sister. It almost— _almost_ —makes Buck laugh. “I actually want to talk to you about something.”

No going back now.

“You know you can tell me anything, baby brother.” She says with that same soft smile that always comforts him.

“I—I started seeing a, a therapist,” he manages then casts his gaze at the wine glass in his hands, swirling the dark liquid around like it’s the most interesting thing he’s ever seen.

“That’s good, Buck. I can’t imagine going through everything you’ve been through, and not needing some kind of help.” She tells him.

His eyes find hers, “You really think so?”

“Buck,” she starts, her eyes widening, “you were pinned in the middle of the street by a ladder truck. That alone would’ve been enough to send me spiraling.” 

“I have a few...nightmares about it still. Being pinned, I mean.”

Maddie looks at him with sad eyes, grabbing his hand in hers, “I’m glad you’re getting some help. I think it’s a big step to admit you even need it.” She pauses to circle her arms around his shoulders, cradling his head close to her as she whispers, “I’m proud of you, Evan.”

Buck makes a point to keep himself tucked into Maddie a little longer, breathing in her comfort and reveling in her acceptance. She didn’t press him for information. She just accepted what he gave her. She trusted him to tell her whatever she needed to know.

He didn’t tell her about Eddie, or Chris and the tsunami. He’s not sure why honestly. Telling Maddie about his nightmares revolving around his leg came out far easier than he expected. He was taken aback by the metaphorical weight that seemed to lessen on his shoulders slightly afterwards. 

So why was his chest so goddamn tight? 

As soon as he thought about Eddie, he was overcome with _that_ feeling again. The one that makes his mouth dry and his stomach churn uncomfortably. The one that he only gets when he thinks about his best friend. The one that confuses the hell out of him every time. And the more he thought about mentioning it, whether it was to Maddie or just into the universe, the more he started to sweat, nervous and hesitant about understanding what was happening to him.

Was this all just a result of his traumas? Could he blame all of these conflicting feelings on being pinned or the tsunami? 

Because that would actually be great if he could.

//////

_“911, what’s your emergency?”_

_“Um, I think I broke his...you know…”_

_“I’m sorry. I don’t understand. Can you be more specific?”_

_“God, this is so embarrassing.”_

_“Sir, what did you break?”_

_“His dick! I think I broke it.”_

//////

Buck thought that he’d pretty seen everything after working in LA for so long. He thought for sure that there couldn’t be much more that surprised him, but he has to admit; learning that a man’s penis can in fact break surprised the hell out of him—and scared him even more. Sure, it’s a little different and not technically a break, but damn, it looks painful. Swollen, bruised, and enough to make him wince several times from the other side of the room.

Bobby cut his eyes to him across the room, “You gonna be okay over there, Buck?”

He swallows loudly, “Yeah, I’m cool. It’s fine, Cap.”

The man’s boyfriend is standing beside him near the door, and he points to Hen, Chim, and Eddie, who have gathered around Richie—the man with a broken schlong—trying to calm him while getting him ready for transport, “What’s bothering you? The penis or that a man broke the penis?”

The crew’s heads lift at once, eyes wide, and Buck isn’t quite sure what to say.

“Definitely the penis…”

The boyfriend nods, “Richie is diabetic. We had a paramedic once who refused to treat him because of our relationship.”

Buck scowls, “Are you kidding me?”

He shakes his head sadly, “I wish. I didn’t mean to come off rude. It’s just hard being gay sometimes.” He laughs.

Hen smiles at him, “Amen.”

He smiles, “Are you…?” Buck realizes he’s staring at him.

“Me? Oh, no.” He says matter of factly. Then he tilts his head, opening his mouth a second time, “I’m not gay. I don’t have any problems with it personally. I mean, I don’t think I am. Do you think I am? That’s probably something you know for a long time, right? Like you don’t just figure it out suddenly at twenty-eight,” Buck rambles gesturing wildly as he starts thinking about his sexuality which he’s never questioned before. Evan Buckley is straight, a heterosexual. He likes women, and he always has. 

“Buck…” Eddie starts, eyeing him weirdly.

He stares at Eddie, the source of most of his pain at the moment. The reason for the unexplainable tightness in his chest and uncomfortable nausea he feels every time he thinks about him or sees him. And right now, he’s starting to breathe heavily. Eddie is looking at him so intensely, concern etching his features. 

“Looks like you’re a little confused, buddy.” The boyfriend claps his shoulder, not registering Buck’s mini-meltdown just then. Fortunately he didn’t know Buck well enough to know that. Unfortunately Eddie most certainly did. 

No one said another word about it on the way back to the station. No one said anything about it the rest of the shift. It was one of those things you just don’t talk about. You know, the possibility of a sexuality crisis? It’s not one of those topics you just openly discussed unless the person of discussion opens the dialogue first. Buck didn’t do that. He didn’t want to talk about it, and he sure as hell didn’t want to think about it ever again. He wanted to forget it happened. 

He could do that. He could pretend it never happened. 

//////

“Hello?”

“Hello, I’m calling from LA county’s Big Brother Big Sister program. May I speak with Evan Buckley?”

Buck immediately sprang out of his chair at the breakfast table, stumbling backwards before he was able to finally right himself. He ignored the team’s alarmed expressions, clearing his throat loudly. 

“Yes. I’m, yes, I’m Evan Buckley.”

“Mr. Buckley, I’m Kaley Farris. I was calling in regards to your application, and we would be so honored if you’d come by our offices at your convenience to talk about the details.” The woman on the line says very enthusiastically, “The boys would love to meet a firefighter such as yourself.”

Buck found himself grinning, “Yeah, I’d love to. I’m off tomorrow, so I can swing by then, Kaley.”

“Oh, that’s perfect! We are looking forward to meeting you, Mr. Buckley.”

After he hung up the call, Buck found himself unable to stop smiling. He was thrilled that he’d gotten a call back so soon. He was kind of excited about being able to tell Frank he’d found something outside of work before his appointment. Buck figured he could swing by the program center then go to his appointment.

“That looks like Buck’s I’ve-got-a-date smile,” Chim commented when Buck sat back down. 

Eddie ate his breakfast and asked, “What was that?” 

“Oh, I’m doing this thing.” Good answer, Buck. No such thing as too vague. 

Chim and Hen share a look, having a silent conversation with their eyes that ends with Hen sighing in defeat and Chim laughing.

“Buckaroo has a new girlfriend he hasn’t told us about yet.” Chim announces to the table, and he grimaces.

“I don’t have a girlfriend.” Buck pleads. He turns to Eddie for support, “Eddie, tell them.”

Eddie leans back in his chair, pushing the leftover scraps from his omelet around on his plate, “Tell them what exactly?”

“Come on, man. You know I don’t have anyone new.” Buck hates the desperate tone in his voice. He doesn’t know why he’s trying so hard to make them understand he doesn’t have anyone new, that he’s very much single. 

Eddie sniffs, brushing his hand across his nose, “I don’t really know what’s going on with you lately.”

“What?” Buck’s voice is quieter now, almost a whisper. 

Eddie leans forward, opening his mouth then closing it several times. Buck waits for him to elaborate, to say something else, to explain what he means even though Buck already understands perfectly. Buck understands why his friend is frustrated. He understands it all, and that’s why he doesn’t say anything else. That’s why he doesn’t explain the phone call. 

This isn’t something he needs his team’s approval to do. He’s doing this for himself. Well, on Frank’s orders, but he chose this. He doesn’t want it tainted yet. He wants to use this as a fresh start to be around others that don’t know about him and all of his fuck ups. 

Eddie stands, his chair scraping against the floor loudly in the otherwise quiet kitchen, “Forget it.”

— _you’re exhausting—_

That was the root of all of his problems. Buck couldn’t forgive, and he damn sure couldn’t forget.

//////

Buck arrived at the program center early. Like fifteen minutes after the doors were unlocked kind of early. The obnoxiously, overly excited kind of early. Buck couldn’t help it. He spent all night lying awake thinking about just how ready he was to play with the kids. He wasn’t quite sure how it all worked, but he’s sure he’ll love it.

It didn’t take long for Kaley to finish his paperwork even though it felt like she talked for an eternity. She gushed about how handsome he was, or how thankful she was for his service, or how the kids would just love him. She talked a mile a minute, and several times Buck found himself zoning out only to be brought back when she released the obnoxious, high pitched (obviously fake) giggle every two minutes. Buck didn’t have enough fingers or toes to count how many times she told him he was funny even though he hadn’t breathed a word since he entered her office. 

Normally Buck was a talker. He could chat with the best of them, but this girl was something else. He found himself rubbing the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb, feeling a headache coming on. Suddenly he wasn’t so sure about this. If he had to spend one more minute with this girl, he felt like his head would explode. 

It was a little too late for Buck to back out now though. Not only did Kaley inform him that the kids are so excited to meet him because she just “couldn’t keep it a secret any longer” but he’d already added this to his file at work. Bobby had been pleasantly surprised when he told him, and seeing that only spurred Buck to do more. Plus Buck is about ninety-nine percent sure he’ll die from the guilt if he doesn’t go through with this commitment.

So, no. He couldn’t quit now. 

When he finally got all of his shit taken care of, he made a bee line out of there, ready to get away from Kaley. She informed him he’d be called in a few days before he left, and he swore he saw her wink at him before he jumped in his jeep.

Jesus Christ.

//////

“Evan—Buck, sorry,” Frank greets him when he settles in his chair.

He shakes his head, “It doesn’t matter. Evan or Buck is fine.”

“Okay, good to know.” Frank smiles, “How have things been this past week?”

Buck mulls it over for a moment, “Pretty much the same.”

“Any difficult calls? Disagreements with your coworkers?” Frank presses.

“The calls were…,” Buck trails off thinking back to the call earlier in the week that rocked his world briefly. If Buck happens to think about it, he calls it a dream. “The calls were interesting.”

“Interesting?”

“Yeah, we saved a family in a house fire on one call. There was a crazy car accident that you just _don’t_ want the details of, a man stuck in a sewer drain, a group of kids trying to be crazy, and it backfired, and a broken penis.” Buck stops ticking each call off on his fingers, clearing his throat, “Pretty normal stuff.”

Frank chuckles, “If you say so.” He addresses his notebook, “Last time we talked a little about Eddie Diaz, but judging by the way your entire body tensed when I mentioned him, I’m thinking we’ll talk about some other things today.”

Buck nods, consciously trying to relax his body, “Sounds great, Doc.”

“I’d like to talk about that guilt we weren’t able to address last week.” 

Buck swallows nervously, “Okay, yeah, sure.”

“There’s no reason to be nervous, Evan.” Frank begins, scribbling in his book again, and Buck finds himself in the same predicament he was in last time. He’s studying the different patterns in the carpet, finding that it oddly helps him calm down enough to think properly. “Why’re you feeling so guilty?”

He sighs heavily, not quite sure where to start, “I guess it started after the tsunami. I just started feeling so—so sorry. Uncomfortable? I’m not really sure how to explain it.”

“You survived the tsunami with a young boy, right? Eddie’s child?”

Buck nods, “Yeah.” Then he tilts his head, frowning, “Well, technically I didn’t save him. I lost him.”

“You lost him?”

“I turned my back for five seconds to—to grab these other people, and when I turned back, he was gone. Just gone, Frank. I couldn’t find him anywhere.”

Frank held his hand up, signalling for Buck to take a breath. That’s when he noticed he was on the edge of his seat, breathing heavily, heart racing. 

“Would you like to continue?” Frank asks softly after a minute.

“Yeah. Yes.” He answers, “He’s disabled. He has CP. And—and he couldn’t see because he lost his fucking glasses!” Buck could feel his eyes starting to get wet, and he leaned his head back, trying like hell to keep the tears in. Too bad it didn’t work that way.

“So you feel guilty for not keeping him safe while you saved,” he looks down at an open file beside him, “six people from potentially drowning?”

Buck felt himself grow angry, “He should’ve been my only responsibility. The department didn’t want me. My career was over. I shouldn’t have tried to be a hero.” 

“Just because you aren’t a firefighter with the department, Evan, doesn’t mean that all that training and primal instinct to help others just goes away. If anything, I think it was probably stronger than ever that day on the pier.” Frank says.

“What do you mean?”

Frank leans forward, “You were pinned under a fire truck. You had a serious injury that you miraculously healed from. You pushed yourself harder and harder everyday exhibiting an amazing amount of discipline, if I’m honest, only for you to have a minor set back.” Frank rubs his jaw, “On that pier you watched a natural disaster happen. You were in the middle of a disaster, and you had a lot to prove to the department.”

I didn’t have anything to—.”

“It’s not a bad thing. You saved dozens of people, Evan. You saved Christopher even though you refuse to admit it.” Frank pauses, “Most importantly, you saved yourself.”

Buck flounders for a moment, “I didn’t save him though. I lost him.”

“Is that how Chris sees it? Or does he tell everyone that big, bad Buck saved him?”

Buck thinks back to every time the tsunami has been brought up. He thinks back to every time Chris has mentioned it, or said something even relatively pertaining to that day.

“He drew me a picture after it happened.” He hesitated, “We were on top of the truck side-by-side with smiles on our faces. He put “super hero buck” across the top.” 

And Buck can’t handle it anymore. He can’t keep it in anymore. He cries right there in front of Frank who discreetly pushes a box of tissues beside him. He wants to scold himself for breaking down like this at his second session, but he can’t find it in him to think about anything other than how much guilt he felt about that day when clearly Chris didn’t remember it that way. 

Frank continues through Buck’s sniffles, “No amount of guilt can solve the past, Evan. At some point we have to take a hold of it, so we can move on.”

Was this the beginning of healing for him? Is this what it felt like to finally release something that’s been weighing him down for so long? Whatever it was felt like a new beginning to Buck. It felt like he could stand a little taller. It felt like hope, and at the end of the day that's all Buck wanted. 

A little hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think? I had to make sure you guys understood Kaley was irrelevant for Buck btw haha


	5. i will find you here inside the dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> grab your "special" juice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another late upload because it be like that sometimes. 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy this chapter as much as I do. The next update will probably take a couple of days. I want to provide quality content, so I want to make sure I’m uploading *good* writing. I have posted all of my backlog (hahaha) so now I’m writing, writing, writing. Please forgive me since I’ve spoiled you and myself with these frequent uploads! 🙂
> 
> Also thank your to everyone who comments. I love reading and replying to all of your kind words. Also thank you to everyone who catches any mistakes I've made. I deeply appreciate it.
> 
> Back to our regularly scheduled program, folks.

Buck received a phone call from Kaley the next day about potentially volunteering somewhere else instead of mentoring a boy. His first reaction was to think he must’ve done something wrong. That obviously his background check, which he knew was clear, came back sketchy, or the program director didn’t think he was dependable enough for mentoring.

Much to Buck’s surprise, it was the opposite. 

Kaley went over the details with him over the phone before his shift one morning. He was sitting in his Jeep, picking at the steering wheel as he listened to her speak in that nasally voice he was beginning to hate.

“So, you wouldn’t be working with one kid, really. It’s more like a support position.”

Buck’s brow furrowed, “Like a support dog?”

She laughed, “That’s actually a good comparison. We would like you to be able to help more than just one child, Mr. Buckley. All of our children are so excited to meet you.”

Buck wasn’t really sure what to say. He was kind of dumbfounded if he’s honest. “Do I need to send in anything else or…?”

“Oh, no!” Kaley started, “This is sort of an unusual circumstance for us. The position isn’t one we’ve had before, but you put on your application that you wanted to help as much as possible, so we really feel like this is the best possible way for you to achieve that.”

“What exactly is different about this than being a mentor?”

“Most of the kids we have are from broken homes or suffer from severe poverty. They’re great kids, but some of them don’t get a mentor until years later. We offer different play dates or activities for all of our children to participate in. That’s where you would come in.” She pauses, and Buck can hear papers rustling in the background, “We’re having a Day of Play at the park down the street from our offices next week, and we’d like you to come with us. Since we’ve never done something like this before, we’ll consider it a trial run. If it goes well, and the kids enjoy it, then you’ll be welcome to help us on all of our outings.”

“And if the kids don’t like me?” Buck asks, his tone a touch too sad for his liking.

“Then we’ll add you back to our mentoring roster. Either way we’d love for you to volunteer with us.”

Buck doesn’t have to think about it. He doesn’t need a few days to process. He knows this is something he wants to do in any way they’ll let him. He’s thought of nothing but this volunteering position. (Well, that’s probably a lie. He’s thought of other things, but none are more important than this.)

“Yeah, that sounds great, Kaley. Let’s do it.”

She breathes out a sigh of relief, “Yay! We have a few things to go over with your paperwork then we can get started.”

Buck scrunches his nose, “What else is there to do?”

“Well, you left the references portion of your application blank. We’ll need to interview two people who are not family to complete that portion then we’ll need to sign some papers.” The receiver crackles like maybe she dropped it. When she speaks again she’s a little breathless, “Then we’re good to go.”

Buck remembered skipping the references portion, telling himself he’d go back and finish that part later, but he guessed he never did. Who would he put anyways? He knew exactly who he  _ should _ put. It doesn’t mean he will.

“When do you need this done by?”

She hums, “As soon as possible. If you’re working, I can come by the station for the paperwork. We can go to your references, or they can come to our offices.” 

Buck wants to bang his head on the steering wheel. No hiding it from the crew now. He gathers his bag from the passenger seat and exits his Jeep, slowly walking toward the station. He looks around the parking lot to make sure no one can hear him, “I’m on shift today and most of tomorrow. I’ll try to make some time for you whenever I can.”

He can practically see Kaley’s smile through the receiver when she replies, “Sure. Sounds great, Ev--Mr. Buckley.”

He rolls his eyes as he hangs up. Great. Just fucking great. Not only does Buck have to get through this shift without losing his focus, now he has to find two references and tell his team about his volunteering. It’s not like Buck was keeping it a secret on purpose. He just wanted something that was only his to know about. At least for now. He wanted one thing to himself, something he didn’t have to explain to anyone. 

— _ you’re exhausting— _

Those little words still made him so...afraid? Terrified? Queasy? 

That was another thing he worried about. He wasn’t ready to admit he was in therapy. It’s not like he was ashamed. He just, again, wasn’t ready. It felt like he was having to bare his soul to them. Like he had to stand in front of his friends completely naked and tell them he’s been struggling to sleep and eat and  _ live. _ He was barely able to keep it together enough to talk to Frank about it. 

“Hey, man. Why does your face look like that?” Eddie asks, strolling into the locker room behind him. He opens his locker and immediately starts undressing. 

Buck’s not sure how many times him and Eddie have done this before. Undress and redress in front of each other. It’s just another part of their job. But this time it’s different. This time Buck averts his eyes to look at the ceiling. This time Buck turns slightly away from him.

He clears his throat, “What does it look like?”

“Like you’re about to vomit in the middle of a speech.” He says quickly then he adds, “Or maybe how Chris looked on his first day of school after we moved here. Oh, or maybe how—”

“Okay, okay. I get it. I look bad.” Buck says with a chuckle.

“I didn’t say bad… Just a little greener than usual.” Eddie smirks at him, “What’s up? For real.”

Buck hesitates. He has two options here. He can keep avoiding his problems--like he wants to do--or he can take Frank’s expensive advice to just talk to his friend.

He dramatically cleared his throat again, “Actually I--I’ve started going to therapy.”

Buck waits for the explosion. He waits for his head to explode right off of his shoulders and cover the room in his blood. He’s waiting for the switch to flip. But nothing happens, and he suddenly realizes he’s been standing in front of his locker, squeezing the door in a vise grip, with his eyes shut tightly. 

“How long?” Eddie asks carefully—like maybe he’s nervous Buck’s head will explode too at the confession. His voice was devoid of emotion, and Buck wasn’t sure what to make of that.

“Only a couple of weeks.”

Eddie shuts his locker quietly, so quiet Buck’s a little taken aback. He turns finally to look at him. Eddie’s buttoning his shirt, fingers moving deftly from one button to the next. Buck watches him silently.

_ —you’re exhausting— _

Buck takes a deep breath to steady himself. He is okay. He will be okay. He just needs to breathe through it. He should’ve known Eddie would react this way. Eddie’s been honest with him about the way he feels about Buck at the moment. He told Buck that day at the grocery store exactly what he thought. He knows Eddie thinks he’s exhausting and whiny. He knows Eddie thinks he only cares about himself. He knows Eddie thinks he doesn’t know what it means to be a part of a team. He knows all of it. He has it on repeat in his head all day like a broken fucking record.

When Eddie stands, Buck’s confident he’s going to leave without saying another word. But he doesn’t. Instead he wraps his arms around him, pulling him into a hug that makes Buck stumble a little. And...they just stand there like that for a moment.

“I’m glad you finally told me. I was  _ really _ worried about you.”

Buck’s not sure what to say. He’s speechless, so he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t feel the need to. Eddie isn’t asking for an explanation. He’s not asking for more than Buck is willing to give. And that’s all the reassurance he needs at the moment. 

//////

“Hi, I’m looking for Evan Buckley.”

Buck would recognize that nasally, high-pitched voice anywhere which was not some declaration of feelings of anything other than annoyance. He’d been dreading this all day. The moment when he returned from a call, and there she was just...waiting for him. He completely understood that she was a necessary part of his ability to volunteer with this program, but dammit, he really didn’t like the woman.

“Hey, Kaley. Glad you could make it.” And by that Buck meant he was absolutely bummed that you actually waited around for him.

She flashes him a smile that he knows would’ve riled Buck 1.0 all the way up, but all he feels at the moment is an intense need to go home, or have a beer with Eddie. She can’t read body language well though, so when she comes toward him with her arms open for a hug, he does his best to return it in the most lazy, half-assed way possible which apparently is still satisfying for her.

Then his mind starts to bounce back to the hug he shared with Eddie in the locker room at the start of shift, and he immediately shakes his head as if trying to dislodge the memory.

“I haven’t been waiting long.” She’s just too damn happy. “Are you ready?”

At the thought of actually speeding this process along, he rejoices, eternally happy to be done with Kaley, so he can start playing with the kiddos.

“Yeah. Just let me have a few minutes.”

“Not a problem. I’ll be upstairs whenever you get ready. It won’t take very long.” She says, eyes never leaving his as she places a small hand on his shoulder only to let it drag for a moment before pulling away. When she safely tucked upstairs, Buck slumps against the truck, scrubbing his hands over his face.

“So... You do have a new girl?” Hen asks, a little laugh behind sneaking out as she speaks. “She seems...nice.”

“She’s not my  _ girl _ . I don’t have anyone.” Buck cuts his eyes to Eddie like a damn fool. “She’s just here to do some paperwork.” Buck turns to Bobby, “Are you still cool to—?”

“Buck, I already told you I’d be happy to.” Bobby answers with a grin.

“Great. That’s good…”

“Is Buck nervous?” Chim jokes.

Hen joins his teasing, “I think he is. Could she be the one?” 

“She’s not his girl—,” Bobby starts, fully prepared to defend him without spilling all of his secrets.

Buck steps forward, “She’s the director of the Big Brother Big Sister program. She’s—she’s here to finish my application to volunteer as a mentor.”

And that’s what Buck was trying to avoid. That look on Hen and Chim’s faces as they hear he’s volunteering with kids. Like it’s so hard to believe Buck would ever volunteer. Buck loves helping people. He thinks he made that pretty damn clear when he filed a whole lawsuit just so he could stay with his chosen family and help people. Helping people is just about the only thing Buck excels at. He also loves children. He treats Chris like his own, but at the end of the day, Chris isn’t his. The thought has sobered him on many occasions.

Bobby’s still grinning, “Damn proud, son.”

“Hey! Sorry I’m late. Damn drag race took place right in front of me. The damn fools were just begging to get arrested,” Athena says as she hurries to Bobby’s side, kissing his cheek with a sweet smile.

“You’re actually right on time,” Buck says before realizing he never cleaned himself up. He’d wasted enough time though. He was itching to get this over with. He was dying to start meeting the kids.

Eddie steps up to him, “Chris is going to riot.”

His eyes flick to Eddie’s, and he can see it. The smallest twinge of sadness like maybe Chris isn’t the one going to throw a fit. “I’ll still have plenty of time for him.”

He nods, “You better.”

//////

Buck is distracted. He’s usually distracted, but normally it’s from his ongoing anxiety, or the perpetual tightness in his chest, or his nightmares. The things keeping him from living his life as he would’ve a year ago are typically the things making him lie awake at night. 

Instead he’s wide awake, staring at the ceiling thinking about someone he shouldn’t be thinking about. It was wrong. It was fucking weird and gross to be thinking about his best friend like this. He wouldn’t say he was having...impure thoughts about him. He was just hung up on their hug and the conversation that he thought was about Chris. Obviously the longer he laid here, the more he thought that Eddie could’ve been talking about himself in the sense that Buck  _ better _ make time for him still.

Which bitch slapped Buck into an entirely different world.

Do friends say those things to each other? It could be completely normal behavior and speech between best friends. Then Buck decided that since he clearly couldn’t message Eddie about it, he’d google it. Fortunately several people apparently have situations very similar to this arise, and also turn to the internet for guidance. Unfortunately every single reply to every single damn post made Buck’s skin start to crawl.

No. Nope.  _ No, no, no. _

He refused to go there. He refused to think about  _ any  _ of those  _ romantic _ feelings. Even as he thought it a shiver rolled down his spine, and he ran to the bathroom, vomiting violently into the toilet.

Is he ill because he’s thinking about Eddie in a non-platonic way? Is he disgusted with himself for thinking this without Eddie’s permission? Is he terrified because he’s having a sexuality crisis at twenty-eight? 

Yes. To every single one of them.

//////

Buck couldn’t stay home that night. 

He couldn’t lie still. He couldn’t sit still. He couldn’t stand still. He couldn’t do anything except think, and that was the one thing he didn’t want to do.

So he started running. He ran until he couldn’t breathe. He ran until his legs were jello. He ran until his mind was completely blank, only focusing on the ache in his leg. He ran until he saw the sun rising over the trees. Only then did he allow himself to stop.

Buck stares at the sight, marveling in the beauty before him. He closed his eyes and ignored his heavy breathing. He sank into the warm air, the dampness that surrounded him in the early morning. He stood in the quiet, and for once in his life he appreciated it for what it was.

Buck’s body has benefited from the movement, but his mind...his mind benefits from the stillness.

//////

Buck’s not quite sure why he really agreed to hang out with Eddie considering he had a full on breakdown last night about him, and Buck’s potentially weird, complicated feelings toward him which makes Buck’s skin itch to even think.

But Buck is here just like he said he’d be. He told himself that he’s only here because he wants to see Chris for a while. He told himself that he’s only here because of his conversation with Eddie at the station about making time for him—which Buck has convinced himself was not a phrase with a hidden meaning about Eddie.

“Hey, man. I’ll take those.” Eddie grabs the pizzas from Buck’s arms before he can even return the greeting. Buck hears Chris in the living room playing one of his many video games, so he takes a moment to compose himself in the hallway where no one can see him.

_ Be normal, Buck. Don’t be yourself for one evening. _

“Bucky!”

Buck spins, catching Chris in his arms as he comes—slowly—barreling toward him. 

“Hey, buddy. I missed you.”

Chris grins, pulling his hand to guide him toward the living room, “Come play a game with me.”

“I don’t think so,” Eddie says, ruffling his son’s hair as he joins them in the hall. “It’s time for dinner. Go save and wash your hands.”

“Come on, daddy.” Chris’s voice is dripping in desperation, “Just one game!”

Eddie laughs, “No. Save and wash your hands. Now, please.”

As Chris slinks off toward the controller, Buck watches him pout dramatically while saving. This happens almost every time Buck comes over. Chris begs to play. Eddie tells him no. Chris pouts until he starts eating then he’s happy again. Such a little kid.

“I kind of love when you do that,” Buck says without thinking.

Eddie chuckles, handing him a beer from the fridge then filling Chris’s glass with his “special” juice and setting it on the table in front of his plate. “Tell my kid no?”

Buck nods, “He pouts like you kicked his puppy or something.”

“We don’t have a puppy.”

Buck sighs, “Jesus Christ, Eddie.”

He laughs,m clapping Buck on the shoulder as he passes in front of him. Before he knows what’s happening, Eddie’s wrapping a hand around his waist to move past him, and Buck finds himself frozen. Just a barely there touch that he shouldn’t even feel, but he can. He can feel the heaviness of Eddie’s warm skin through his t-shirt. The sensation lingers for a moment, giving Buck a minute to absorb what just happened. 

What did just happen? Nothing. Eddie’s done that a million and one times. Nothing has changed. God, Buck, get it together.

But this is what Buck does. He thinks about things until it turns into overthinking. Then he lets that fester until it turns into a breakdown. Next thing you know he’s spiraling, caught up in a thought or notion that in the long run really meant nothing.

He hated to admit it, but he googled it. He googled ‘sexuality crisis at thirty’ even though he’s not quite thirty. He didn’t really think it mattered if he got super specific with it, and he was right. It was apparently common to question your heterosexuality in your thirties. He found himself reading and scrolling and asking strangers random questions for hours. He couldn’t stop until he had a definition for himself and what he was feeling. He needed to carefully put this topic in a box, and leave it there untouched for the rest of his life.

Buck liked women. He loved them. He’d never been attracted to a man before, and he was surprised and confused by how little that seemed to bother him. He found himself saying to his empty room and the broken bobble head Maddie got him when they were teenagers: “Maybe I just haven’t met a man that arouses me. Maybe I have found a man nice-looking, but I didn’t realize it.”

And yes, he felt fucking crazy. 

So feeling the brush of Eddie’s hand across his waist made his stomach muscles tighten and his mind go blank. It made him want to turn into him slightly even though he was sitting in his chair by the time Buck’s brain caught up to his body.

Chris appeared in the doorway, showing his glistening hands, “I’m ready to get my grub on.”

Eddie laughed, “You have to quit repeating everything Buck says, mijo.” He looks at him, cocking his head slightly, “You planning to stand there all night?”

“Oh, right.” Buck sits, smiling as best he can at Chris, “I think your daddy is just hangry tonight.”

Chris giggles, “You need to get your grub on, too!”

“Okay, okay. Just please stop saying grub.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love an obtuse Eddie. Basically my favorite trope.
> 
> On a scale of one to ten, how sad were you about not getting any Frank? I'm a ten.
> 
> Also, let me know if you have any songs that are your Buddie song, ya know? I based this fic loosely off of Find You; Ruelle, but I'd love to know if you guys have any song suggestions.


	6. i will break through

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> until eddie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back, and I'm totally ready to wow you with another chapter! I think you'll enjoy this one. It has the beloved Frank that I *rudely* didn't include last chapter. I will forever apologize for that. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this, and please let me know what you think!
> 
> I'm also now on twitter @ fernnette so come chat with me or be a part of my ridiculous feed! haha

Things seemed a little quieter lately. Or that’s what Buck had thought. The weight on his shoulders seemed lighter, and the tightness in his chest felt looser. He thought these must be pretty good signs that the therapy—two whole sessions—must be working, and that Frank is damn good at his job if Buck is already feeling better. It felt like too simple of a word to use: better. Buck had hope lately. He clung to it desperately on the off chance it’d pass him by, and there he was for the rest of his life—hopeless.

He was being dramatic. He knew that. 

Buck had truly thought that the lightness he felt in his otherwise odd time of crisis—his sexuality—meant he was healing, and maybe he was. Buck’s never had to heal from psychological trauma. He’s never had to heal from something on the inside. Physical pain? No problem. Buck was a professional these days. But healing from himself? He’s not sure how to do that.

Maybe Buck was being naive. He had a tendency to be that way sometimes, so he thought that he was just being a little gullible to the therapy that might’ve been tricking his mind into believing he was better when he wasn’t. Buck wasn’t sure about a lot of things lately, and the state of his mental and emotional health was number one on the list. 

For the first time in a month he was able to have a single night that consisted of six straight hours of rest. He couldn’t remember the last time he not only slept through the night but woke up of his own accord. Granted he was confused and groggy, bolting upright like he missed his alarm and would be late to work. It took him several minutes to adjust to his room. To adjust to the sole fact that he hadn’t jackknifed out of bed because of a nightmare. 

He was on cloud fucking nine. For the first time in a month Buck’s metaphorical cup was full to the brim with the potential to runneth over or whatever the saying is. Buck was too happy to care about the nonsense he was spouting off in his head which was a first. Not the nonsense part. He did that more often than he cared to admit. 

That’s why when he showed up at Frank’s office he was practically bouncing around with all his excited energy. He was beyond thrilled to tell Frank about his nightmare-free night and his happy morning. Hell, Buck was feeling lighter so he’d even discuss Eddie today. He would talk about it all because Frank was fixing him. He was helping him finally get over everything that’s happened. 

“Evan? Frank’s ready.”

Buck enters the office, plopping down in the chair with such an uncharacteristic smile on his face that even Frank is a little more than curious. 

“You’re in a good mood today.” Frank comments. “Anything contributing to this good mood that you’d like to share?”

Buck nods, still smiling, “A few things actually. I am officially a volunteer with the Big Brother Big Sister program.”

“That’s great, Evan. I take it this is part of the homework I gave you?”

“Yeah. I thought about other things, but I love kids.” Buck shrugs. 

Frank nods, clasping his hands in front of him, “That’s a really good start. We’ll keep touching base with that.” 

Buck’s answering grin that just won't leave his face makes Frank chuckle. 

“What else has made you so happy?”

Buck breathes in shakily then says, “I didn’t have any nightmares last night.”

Frank furrows his brow, “How long have you been having the nightmares?”

“I don’t know.” _He does know_. “Maybe a month.”

Frank crosses his arms, “You haven’t mentioned nightmares before. What exactly happens in these nightmares?” 

Buck can feel his hands sweating, turning clammy at the topic. He came into the office so proud of himself for managing a normal night. Now his heart was pounding in his chest, and he found himself running his damp palms over his jeans. 

“Lately it’s—I’m drowning, and, and there’s a weight on my chest holding me down.” Buck rubs at his sternum, feeling that familiar tightness, “Then Chris is screaming. He’s screaming f-for me, and I can’t—I can’t get to him.”

Frank sniffs, “I see. You said lately? Are there different scenarios that you’ll see?”

“Um, sometimes I’m pinned again. Under the ladder truck.” He pauses, drawing in a breath shakily, “Usually if I can crawl away from the truck and grab his hand, I’m okay.”

“Pinned…” Frank mumbles to himself. “It’s not uncommon to experience nightmares like this after such a traumatic event.” Frank scribbles something on his notepad, “You said if you can grab _his_ hand. Whose hand are you referring to?”

Buck tilts his head, clearly never thinking about this question. He just always had the same hand reaching out to help him, but he never thought to question who it actually was. He scrunches his eyes closed, thinking back through his dreams to try to put a face to the hand. His eyes flutter open suddenly, and he feels his stomach begin to knot uncomfortably. The same feeling he’s been avoiding suddenly coming to the surface, begging to be acknowledged. 

“Who is it, Evan?” Frank presses.

He whispers, “Eddie.”

“Why does that make you tense? To talk about Eddie, I mean.”

He shrugs, “I don’t know.”

“Does he bother you?” Frank pushes.

“No.” He says firmly. 

Frank smiles softly, “Are you trying to convince me, or yourself?” He sighs, “Eddie seems to be at the very center of your world, Evan. He’s caused you pain, yet he’s brought you immense happiness. You say he’s your best friend, but every time we start to discuss him, your entire body tenses. Why is that?”

“I don’t know. I’m just—I get confused lately.” Buck manages, picking at his nails.

“What’re you confused about?”

Buck leans back against the chair. He didn’t need to think about the answer. He knew the answer to this question. He just didn’t want to say it. If he said it out loud, it would be like admitting it. Buck didn’t want to admit it. 

Frank hums knowingly, “Okay. Think about it before our next session, and we’ll talk about it then.”

Buck nods, feeling a little less queasy.

“Let’s go back to the nightmares instead.” Frank says, “What makes you so happy about not having the nightmares?”

Buck looks at him like he’s grown a second head, “Is that a real question?”

Frank chuckles, “Humor me.”

“I feel like I’m better—like I’m getting better. You’re fixing me.” Buck states simply because for Buck it is simple. This whole ass backwards advanced algebra equation that has become his life is made easier for him to comprehend if he thinks about it in a dumbed-down version. If it gets too complicated, he feels like he can’t think properly, like his brain short circuits from the complexity. So, Buck likes to keep it simple. 

“Fix you? Evan, I’m not _fixing_ you.” Frank says with a frown, his voice taking on a tone that makes Buck feel like he’s in trouble.

“Then what exactly is the point here, Doc?” Buck asks, feeling himself getting uncharacteristically annoyed.

Frank leans forward, leveling him with a stare, “Trauma permanently changes us. There is no such thing as “getting over it.””

Buck scrubs a hand down his face, “I don’t understand then.” He was yelling now, the words tumbling out in frustration, “What is the point of even coming here if I’m never going to get better?”

“You will get better. In the near future, you’ll be able to sleep properly. You’ll be able to talk to Eddie without being so confused. You’ll be able to enjoy working with your peers again. You will get better, Evan.” Frank pauses, rolling his wheelchair closer to Buck to really get through to him he suspects, “I’m not fixing you because there is absolutely nothing about you to fix. You’re not broken. You’re hurt. You’re traumatized. Rightfully so, actually. I can’t imagine enduring half of what you’ve had to.”

“I want to be better than... _this_ ,” Buck gestures to himself in a sweeping motion that leaves him feeling vulnerable with Frank, who’s already analyzing every word out of his mouth.

“You are healing. Healing takes time. It’s not going to remove the damage. It’s not going to make you feel like it never happened. It means that your hurt and pain no longer control you.” Frank pauses, “Healing from all you’ve been through, Evan… It will take time, patience, and a whole lot of love. Love from your family, your friends, and most importantly yourself.”

Buck sniffs, rubbing his chin, trying to hold back the tears that threaten to fall, “You’re trying to tell me I need to talk to my people. The crew, Maddie...Eddie?”

Frank’s lips thin as he draws in a breath and exhales through his nose, “Do you know what a trigger is?”

“Something like a sound, smell, or sight that triggers feelings of trauma,” Buck spouts off immediately like a textbook.

“Your body remembers, Evan. Yes, a certain smell or sight or sound can make you relive whatever trauma you have, but a person can be a trigger as well.” Frank looks at Buck with a knowing gleam in his eyes, “Healing won’t happen until you’re ready to stop avoiding your triggers. Healing happens when you’re able to work through the pain and emotions after being triggered.”

Buck feels a tear slip down his cheek, “You think Eddie is my trigger?”

“One of them,” Frank nods. “A lot of times whatever triggers you also shows you what you need to heal.”

His brow furrows, “But Eddie wasn’t even there? I was with Christopher.”

“From what little you’ve told me Eddie was there when you were pinned under the fire truck. He held your hand and stayed by your side. During the tsunami you were with Eddie’s son, who you spent hours and hours searching for. Then you had to tell him what happened. Telling anybody you lost their kid, best friend or not, is hard and traumatic in its own way.”

“It all revolves around Eddie,” Buck mutters.

Frank continues, “Eddie is the one who said you were exhausting. Those two little words he shouted in a supermarket are the reason you’re having a hard time opening up to anyone at the moment.”

Buck was starting to feel a little overwhelmed. For a month he’d been wrapped up in each individual accident, and never once did he look at the common variable. Eddie was always there. Frank was right about that. Eddie had slowly become something that Buck had maneuvered around because he loved feeling like he was a part of this little family with Eddie and Chris. He felt like a partner to Eddie and a parent to Chris. Buck was just as integrated in their lives as they were in his.

And that scared him. Feeling so open and vulnerable in a family that wasn’t really your own. Buck fucked up. Constantly. He always said the wrong thing or made the wrong move—THE DAMN LAWSUIT. He hated feeling like suddenly he had discovered something new, making himself even more susceptible to heartache when he inevitably messed it up.

He wasn’t even sure what _it_ was truthfully. He could ponder it all day and analyze it with Frank, and still feel just as clueless as he does now.

“I’m so...confused.” Buck mumbles, repeating his earlier phrase.

Frank nods, “Understandably.”

“I guess I’m just having a hard time picking up what you’re laying down, Doc.” Buck jokes, hoping it’ll help him lighten up a little. It doesn’t.

“I think I know what your homework is,” Frank says, and Buck groans loudly, eliciting a chuckle from the doctor. “I know, but this is simple.”

“Why don’t I believe you?”

Frank grins, “I want you to figure out who Eddie is in your life. What role does he play in the future? What role would you like him to play in your future?” He says with a tilt of his head, letting Buck read loud and clear exactly what he means by this _simple, little_ assignment.

“I can answer that now. Eddie is a friend. He will always be my best friend.”

Frank clicks his tongue, “Yes, well, my wife was also my best friend first too.”

Buck’s eyes widen, and he sputters hopelessly not making any sense as a slew of jumbled words fall from his mouth. He can feel the heat in his cheeks, and he knows without a doubt the tips of his ears are bright red. 

Frank pats his shoulder, “Who is the real Evan Buckley? What does he look like?”

//////

“You don’t seriously think ghosts are...real? Please say no, Buck.” Hen pleads from across Bobby and Athena’s lawn. She’s propped a hip against the outdoor table sipping a beer while Karen sits beside her, smiling affectionately at her women while she teases him relentlessly.

Buck sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I’m just saying there’s a real possibility, Hen. Someone back me up here. Eddie, man?”

Eddie raises his hands in surrender backing a few steps away from Buck, “You know my stance already, so don’t ask me.”

He groans, hands coming down by his sides as a tiny bit of beer sloshes from his bottle onto his shirt. Eddie hands him a napkin without hesitation, and Buck dabs at the spot before saying, “You don’t think there’s a chance ghosts could be real?”

“No, Buck.”

“Have you seen one?” He raises a brow.

Hen smiles, turning to look down at Karen with a smile, “I haven’t.”

“So it stands to reason that there’s a possibility ghosts are real.” He says, hands gesturing wildly again, and Eddie steps in to take his beer before he spills again, “Thanks.” He turns back to Hen, “Just say there’s a possibility.”

Karen laughs, “Will that make you happy?”

Buck nods, “Better than a firm ‘no.’”

“How about a loose ‘no?’” Chim jokes from his perch beside Maddie on the couch. Maddie swats at his chest, but still lets out a giggle nonetheless. 

Buck waves his hand dismissively, “Whatever. I need another drink.”

He makes it all the way to the kitchen before he realizes he left his beer with Eddie, but he takes it as a break to calm himself. He’s had a hard time keeping it together around the team ever since his soul exposing session with Frank. He thought he’d have trouble with the job, but actually that’s the one thing he’s good at. That’s the one thing he can put aside everything, every complicated emotion or thought, to get the job done and work well with his crew. They still move and act as one. 

He thought the hardest part would be facing Eddie after...well, just after. He wasn’t quite sure how to categorize what he was feeling yet. He definitely knew what Frank was trying to insinuate, but he wasn’t sure if that’s what was happening or not. Buck couldn’t even say it in his head. He couldn’t he get the words out in his own mind, so how could he even begin to grasp what the fuck was happening with his feelings? 

Ugh, he thought, gross. He didn’t like thinking about his _feelings_ and _Eddie_ in the same context. It made him nauseous, and his heart beat uncomfortably. Buck didn’t like that. He didn’t like it at all.

“Hey, you left before I could give this back.” Eddie comes around the counter to hand the bottle to Buck. 

“Thanks. I forgot I even had an open one for a minute.” He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He just pulls a long drag from his bottle then faces Eddie, feeling a surge of confidence suddenly. He clears his throat, “Do you still think about the tsunami?”

Eddie leans against the counter, crossing his arms across his chest. He doesn’t look at Buck for a few moments, and Buck feels all of his courage draining by the second. He shouldn’t have asked. Then again why shouldn’t he ask? Isn’t this exactly what Frank told him to do? Have a conversation with Eddie. He knows Frank meant something a little different, but Buck needs to take baby steps. He can’t jump all in yet.

Eddie finally sniffs, “Yeah. I still think about it.”

Well, Buck expected a little more than that. He’s not sure why considering this is Eddie he’s talking to. He’s not one to get mushy or openly discuss something that could potentially make him _feel_ something. Buck knows that, and yet he finds himself a little distraught at Eddie’s lack of response.

Buck just nods, embarrassed that even brought it up, “Sorry, man. I shouldn’t have—.”

“Chris has nightmares occasionally. He’ll ask for you.” Eddie admits, and Buck can tell it’s painful for him to say. Hell, it’s painful for him to hear. All this time Chris has been in a similar situation to him. 

Buck turns toward him, leaning his body against the fridge opposite of him, “Why didn’t you tell me? You know I would’ve talked to him.”

Eddie lets out a rough, humorless snort, “Yeah, I know, Buck. That’s why—I could tell you were dealing with your own shit.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I just mean,” Eddie scrubs a hand across his jaw, “you need to get better, too. Your health is important, and I know you. I know you would’ve given more of yourself to my little family than humanly possible.” He pauses, “Because that’s just what you do for us, and I’m never able to return the favor.”

Buck isn’t sure what to say. The conversation feels oddly intimate to him, and he’s struggling to decide if he should take Eddie’s words at face value or try (and probably fail) to read between the lines. He’s floundering for a response that doesn’t come out all breathy and chaotic. 

“You do help me.” Great, Buckley. You’re doing great.

Eddie continues to stare ahead of him, picking at the label on his beer, “The one time I tried to return the favor and help you out of a slump, you got caught in a tsunami with my son which has now traumatized not only Chris, but it’s probably the whole reason you’re in therapy.”

“You’re not trying to say you, you blame yourself, right? Because that’s just not even...I can’t even begin to comprehend that. It was _my_ idea to take him to the pier. Not yours.” Buck has stepped closer, only a foot or so from where Eddie stands now. He can see his furrowed brow and the crinkle of his eyes. He can see the scowl on his face, and Buck wants nothing more in that moment to make it better. He knows he’d say or do anything to take away the obvious pain Eddie’s feeling.

“I don’t blame myself. Well, I guess I do a little, but I don’t blame you either. I actually feel...guilty, maybe, for all you probably had to go through. Alone, Buck. You were alone searching for my kid.” Eddie finally looks at Buck, and he can see the moisture gathering. 

Suddenly this conversation feels entirely too heavy for a barbecue at Bobby and Athena’s house. It feels a little too intimate to be comfortable for Buck after talking to Frank. But it also feels cathartic. It feels like he should’ve talked to his best friend a lot sooner. Why didn’t he say anything again? He can’t remember.

He can’t remember because he’s looking at Eddie. He’s really looking at him. He’s studying him like it’s the first time he’s seeing him. He’s cataloging his short, brown hair, his tan skin, and his biceps that are flexing every so often like it’s just a habit. Buck is really looking at Eddie, and he finds himself thinking crazy things. He’s thinking things—remember those impure thoughts he wasn’t having?—that no longer put Eddie in a platonic category.

He’s not sure if it’s the four or five beers he’s managed to throw back in the short amount of tie he’s been here, or if it’s his sudden curiosity to figure out if he’s truly having some kind of sexuality crisis so late in life. He’s not really sure what it is that possesses him to close the small distance between the two of them and press his lips softly onto Eddie’s.

He stands with his hands dangling at his sides, and his eyes closed tightly. It’s definitely the alcohol encouraging Buck to pull back only to lean in one more time—because where did this bold Buck come from if not from alcohol? He doesn’t deepen the kiss. He just revels in the feel of his lips against Eddie’s which are unsurprisingly not kissing him back.

He snaps back to reality, pulling away quickly and wiping at his mouth. Eddie’s eyes are wide, and Buck can see his knuckles turning white from gripping the bottle in his hands so hard. 

He can feel his cheeks heating rapidly, and Buck is now feeling the urge to get the hell out of there. He needs to be anywhere but here. He rubs the back of his neck, placing his bottle on the counter, then saying, “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m such an idiot.” 

Eddie doesn’t say anything, clearly just as ruffled as Buck is.

“Okay, well, I’m going to go.” Buck pauses, jabbing a finger at the door, “I have to feed my cat.”

He doesn’t stay long enough to stick his head outside to say goodbye to anyone else. He doesn’t even stay long enough to let Eddie formulate some kind of response. He just fucking leaves. Hops into his jeep and peels out of the driveway. He can feel his chest tightening, and his stomach starts to turn so violently he has to pull over to vomit.

He knows he’s ill over the panic, the embarrassment. He actually knows this without a doubt because he liked kissing Eddie. It wasn’t anything life-altering, but it was simple and nice. It was also the first time he’s ever kissed a man before, and he liked it. He liked feeling the stubble around Eddie’s mouth. 

What did this mean? Is he gay now? Did this mean he was gay? Oh, god. How could Buck go through something that he’s supposed to know for sure in his late twenties? He’s never questioned his sexuality before. He’s never been attracted to a man before either though.

Until Eddie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOD!!! Please let me know if you screamed. If you didn't scream, I'm going to need you to kindly exit the chat. Kidding, kidding (or am I?)
> 
> expect a lot of angst and thoughtful, reflective reasoning happening next chapter
> 
> psa: I don’t condone drinking and driving in any form, but I’m realizing now that Buck is driving under the influence. He’s by no means drunk, but he did have “four or five” beers. I think considering the situation that’s why he decided to drive himself out of there! ❤️


	7. no matter where you are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> your reassurance doesn't mean anything to me, bobby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New update, bitches! It's super late (or early?) because that dang baby is really putting me through the ringer. Hahaha.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter because it's a long one. Almost 6k words. *nervous laughter*
> 
> Again I'm on twitter @ fernnette come chat with me if you feel so inclined!

Holy shit. Oh, shit. No, no, no. 

What did he do? Why did he do it? How could he kiss his best friend? Buck’s not even having a meltdown about the fact that said best friend is a man. For him that’s not even the messed up part, like he’s kissed plenty of men—he hasn’t. No, the part that is seriously screwing with his brain is the fact that out of every man on the planet to be curious with he has to choose Eddie fucking Diaz to have his first same-sex kiss with.

As if Buck didn’t have enough problems and trouble dealing with his emotions as it is, now he’s had to go add to it by kissing his male best friend. Why was he like this? Why did he have to dig himself into these deep, dark holes that he can never get himself out of? He doesn’t even know how to go about handling this? What does one say to their best friend after forcing unwanted attention on them? 

He feels so desperate for answers and advice that he opens his laptop as soon as he arrives back at his apartment so he can search the internet for “ _ how to apologize after kissing a friend” _ or maybe “ _ should i run away after forcing myself on a friend”  _ because both were actual questions he had. Unfortunately neither turned up great results, and by ‘great results’ Buck meant every article told him to be the bigger person and just have a conversation which is not something he wanted to do now...or ever!

His phone buzzes on the island in the kitchen, making him jump out of his skin, and he places his hand on his chest, trying to calm his fast heart rate and obnoxious heavy breathing. Against his better judgment he makes his way over to the device, almost scared to see Eddie’s name, and for some reason being a little…disappointed when it’s not his name but Maddie’s.

“Hey, Mads.”

She laughs at something in the background, “Hey! Eddie said you weren’t feeling well. I just wanted to check in with you.” 

Shit, he didn’t even think about the fact that he bolted so fast he left Eddie to make up an excuse for him. He heard shouting, and Maddie let out another giggle.

He coughs into the receiver a couple of times, hoping that would be convincing enough to throw her off his scent, “Yeah, just a little tickle. Probably nothing serious. No need to worry.”

“I’ll bring some breakfast in the morning,” she pauses, huffing out a breath, “and nurse you back to health after Eddie leaves.”

Buck nods through it all, “Yeah, okay, that sounds gre—wait, did you say after Eddie leaves?” He croaks.

“Yeah, he left a few minutes ago, so he could check on you.” She sounds so distracted that Buck feels like he can allow himself a few minutes to look around his apartment wildly for an exit. “You there, Evan?” She asks.

“Yeah, sorry.”

“I’ll message you in the morning, okay? Let me know if you need anything. I mean it!” She says sternly, knowing her brother better than most.

He just nods, too nervous to say much, “Sure. I mean, I will.”

After he hangs up with his sister, he stands frozen where he is beside the island for a few minutes, contemplating his life and why he has to make it so much harder than it needs to be. What will he say when Eddie shows up? He’ll obviously start with an apology. That’d be a good idea. 

Except Eddie never comes over. There’s no soft knocking on his front door, and Buck finds himself awake on the couch at three-thirty in the morning waiting for something that’s not going to happen. He’s not surprised though. He kind of did the same exact thing to Eddie right after  _ the incident  _ happened. 

Why does every lame ass excuse Buck comes up with revolve around a cat he doesn’t have? A cat that everyone around him knows he doesn’t own! He could at least say something that made a little sense. 

He climbs into bed around four that morning, pulling the blankets up to his chin, curling up into a ball. Surprisingly sleep comes easy, probably from how tired he was from alternating his stare from his phone to his door, neither of which did anything worthwhile throughout the length of time he sat there. 

He was just grateful for easy sleep.

/////

He was on his stomach, blood clouding his vision as he laid lifeless on the cold street. Everything around him sounded deafening and peculiar, like it was all just one big sound that threatened to pierce his eardrums. He tried to lift his head to look around, only able to see a few feet in front of him before everything blurred. 

He tried to move, making hot, white pain shoot up his leg in an instant and causing him to scream out in pain. He tried again despite the tortuous spasms, but only made himself see white spots as he forced himself to do something his body clearly couldn’t do. 

He was pinned. He was pinned again.

He clawed at the ground, scraping harshly against the asphalt in an attempt to free himself from the ladder truck crushing his foot. 

“Evan!”

He turned toward the voice, reaching out, tears streaming down his face. 

“Please! Please help me, Eddie!”

“Evan, come on! Get up!”

He’s trying. He’s trying so hard, but he can’t. He can’t get out from under this stupid truck, and he can’t get away from the hard concrete. His body aches, and his crushed leg sends a throbbing irritation shooting through every point of his body. 

He’s known pain like this. Buck has endured pain like this before. He’s suffered through pain that made him wish he were dead. He’s enshrined this injury, letting it replay a thousand times, until he has the pain memorized. He knows exactly how this feels; he’ll never be able to forget it. 

He closes his eyes, squeezing them tightly as he tries one more time to reach a hand out toward the voice, toward Eddie, toward hope.

//////

“Evan, get up! Wake up!” Maddie is yelling at him, shaking his shoulders wildly in an attempt to jostle him awake. 

He jackknifes out of the bed, patting all over his body quickly to make sure everything is indeed intact. He drags his hands over his arms, his chest, his thighs, breathing out a heavy breath when everything feels normal. He sits on the edge of his bed, rubbing at his ankles and feet just to be on the safe side. There’s no blood or protruding bones. Everything is okay. He’s okay because he’s at home in his bed. There’s nothing to worry about.

Except....

Maddie is staring at him, mouth hanging open and looking dangerously close to tears. She’s standing a few feet away from him, presumably to give him space to conduct his own little exam after his nightmare. She must see the normalcy of it all. Like maybe she can sense that Buck does this a lot. Probably every time he has a nightmare, so he’d say it was pretty damn often.

He reaches his hand out to her hesitantly, “Mads…”

She swallows, swiping at a tear quickly, “Are—Are you okay? Do you need anything?”

“No, Mads. I’m fine,” he says, and he realizes he’s being truthful. He really is okay. He’s awake with all of his limbs intact. That’s a lot to be thankful for at the moment. He chews his bottom lip, “Are you okay?”

She smiles, a soft, barely nothing thing that warms Buck’s heart, and lets out a little scoff, “You shouldn’t be asking me that question. Do you...” she hesitates, licking her lips nervously, “Do you have nightmares like that often?”

He opens his mouth then closes it. Standing he grabs a pair of sweatpants from his dresser, shoving his legs into them almost angrily. He’s not sure why answering her question feels so hard. It’s a simple answer: yes or no. It was easy enough to tell Frank all about his nightmares then again Frank is basically a stranger. Maddie is someone that he’s familiar with. She knows him and understands his little quirks and ticks that make him who he is. Maddie isn’t someone he can lie to easily, and yet he has. He’s felt so much pressure to conceal such large parts of himself from everyone. 

— _ you’re exhausting— _

He can’t stand the pressure if he’s honest. He felt pressure from his parents to be better at sports, or smarter in school. He felt pressure from Maddie to suck up any odd, misplaced feeling and do what needed to be done for the sake of others. He felt pressure from Bobby to heal faster and give more of himself to this job to prove he was worthy of this job. He felt pressure from Chim to be a better brother to his sister. He felt pressure from Hen to be better than the day before. He felt pressure from Eddie to be everything for him and his family, to be everything he needed in a partner and friend. He felt pressure from himself to be what everyone else needed even if it meant neglecting himself. 

So, yeah, Buck felt pressured. He felt it caving in on him from all angles of life, making him claustrophobic and needy. He needed his parents to love him regardless of his choices. He needed Maddie to let him feel whatever he needed to even if it let someone else down. He needed Bobby to be proud of him. He needed Chim to tell him he’s a good brother, that he’s what Maddie needs out of him. He needed Hen to let him make mistakes and feel bad about it. He needed Eddie to forgive him for a lot even if he had to do it a thousand times before Buck got it, and he needed Eddie to see his side, to stick with him even if he didn’t understand because that’s what best friends do. He needed him to give Buck the same amount he gave him everyday without question. 

He needed a lot in return. He needed more than he was willing to ask for. 

So when he finally turned around and met Maddie’s gaze, he felt pressured and claustrophobic and needy all at once. Does he have these nightmares often? 

Buck steeled himself, finally feeling more in control of his life than he had in a long time, “Yeah, I do. A lot, actually.”

She looks taken aback at the hardness in his tone. Buck was soft around the edges when it came to Maddie—especially when it came to Maddie. He loved her. She was his sister, and he would do anything for her. Buck just questioned everything in his life right now. Frank was right. He’d let two words yelled at him in a grocery store tear him down until he felt like nothing. He let two words do that… 

But they also opened his eyes to how he allowed others to treat him. 

“Oh…” She sounded a little unsure of herself, “Are you sure you’re okay?” She asks again, stepping closer to cover his hand with her own, and he softens a touch. He softens for the look of pure concern and worry etched on her face.

He squeezes her hand back, “I will be.”

She cracks a smile, “After Doug I thought I’d never be okay again, and then I was. I am. I’m okay even if it took too long to get here.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Buck tilts his head, leveling her with an accusing gaze.

She sighs, swallowing the lump of emotion she’s trying to hold back, “Because it gets better. He changed me, and I am no longer the same Maddie I was.” She squeezes his hand, “But that’s okay. He led me back to you and a whole new family I never would’ve had if I didn’t meet him. I forgive him for what he did to me, Evan, and I forgive myself for allowing him to treat me that way.”

“You forgave yourself?”

She nods sadly, “And it was the hardest part. In order to heal, I had to forgive, and the person I needed to give forgiveness to the most ended up being myself.”

He smiles, a small, lopsided grin that thaws him even more, “You sound like Frank.”

“Frank? He’s good, right?” She laughs, “He’s the one who said that to me. That I needed forgiveness the most. He was so right when he said it’d be one of the hardest things I’d do.” 

“I don’t know how to do that. Forgive myself. I have too much I feel guilty for, too much I blame myself for.” Buck comments, starting down the stairs. “I feel guilty for feeling some of the things I’m—I’m feeling. I'm so confused lately.”

She leans against the counter, grabbing her to-go cup of coffee while pushing the warm bag of pastries she brought with her toward him. She holds the cups in both hands like she’s afraid she’ll drop it. “Does it have anything to do with your hasty exit last night? You don’t seem too sick this morning.”

He snorts, “Yeah, actually, it does.”

“I thought so. Eddie was acting strange too.” 

“Yeah, I made a horrible—” A knock at the door interrupts Buck’s confession, and he’s not sure if he should take that as a sign from the universe to keep his embarrassing kiss a secret, or ignore the warning and spill his guts. He knocks the counter twice then heads toward the door, “Hold that thought”

He flings the door open, a flurry of emotions crossing his face before a blush creeps over his entire body. He feels hot and sticky, uncomfortable in his own skin. His heart is racing, knocking painfully against his chest until he can’t take it anymore.

Eddie is standing with his hands shoved into his jean pockets. He looks just as uncomfortable as Buck is, and they stand there, neither of them quite sure what to say. Buck wasn’t prepared. Sure, he’d waited around last night, but this is the morning, and Maddie is here. He’s drawing several blanks.

Eddie clears his throat, “I thought...I thought maybe we could talk about, you know... last night?”

Buck leans back, catching Maddie’s eyes and smiling quickly before shoving Eddie back so he can talk to him in the hallway. The minute his hand hits Eddie’s chest he can feel his entire body jolt away from him. He can feel the withdrawal from a simple touch Buck has made a thousand times before. Buck isn’t surprised. He expected Eddie to have some kind of reaction after the shock wore off. It still hurt though. It still caused a frisson of pain to crack down his chest because suddenly it seemed real. 

Suddenly Buck was very aware of his best friend avoiding his eyes. He had his body angled away from Buck with his head ducked slightly.It all became painfully clear to Buck how messed up this was, how badly he fucked up. It was clear last night. He understood last night just how bad everything was, but now that he’s seeing Eddie physically shy away from him, it’s too real. It’s real in a way that seems impossible.

“Sorry,” Buck starts, jabbing his thumb behind him at the door, “Maddie is, is in the kitchen. Didn’t think you’d want her to...hear.” He takes a page out of Eddie’s book, stuffing his hands deep into the pockets of his sweatpants.

Eddie nods slowly, “Yeah.”

“Eddie…” He swallows, closing his eyes for a second, “I am  _ so _ sorry. I don’t—I’m not sure what came over me.”

“You’re not sure?” Eddie asks, a certain hint of suspicion making his volume rise a level or two. 

Buck’s eyes widened, “I don’t know. It just…happened.”

Eddie faced him, squinting his eyes in the most menacing way imaginable. Buck had never been intimidated by Eddie before. He had always enjoyed the fact that they treated each as equals in most things. That’s one reason their friendship worked. But in this moment, meeting Eddie’s heated gaze is harder for Buck than he’d like to admit.

“You!” Eddie jabs a finger at his chest, lowering his voice,”You kissed me, Buck. You—Why would you…” He trails off, holding his hands out in question. Buck’s heart aches for the confusion on his face. He wants to run from the anger he sees, but he also wants to hug him for how lost he looks. “I’m not gay, Buck.”

He inhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his chest, “I’m not gay either, Eddie.”

Eddie stares at him like he’s grown a second head suddenly. He doesn’t say anything for a minute, and Buck rubs his chest harder, trying to help the tightness that’s settled there.

“What was last night then?”

Buck scrubs his hands down his face, groaning as he thinks of some kind of response that doesn’t send his friend running away from him. “I’m just tired, Eddie.”

Which, in Buck’s defense, isn’t a lie. He really is tired. He’s so damn tired all the time, but that’s not the reason he kissed Eddie. He kissed Eddie because he felt safe, comfortable, and secure enough in their friendship to take that risk with him. He was curious. Who else would he have gone to? Definitely no one else at the station. 

Eddie clenched his fists, squeezing his eyes shut. He seemed even more angry than before. He seemed even more messed up by this kiss than Buck was. When Eddie finally opened his eyes, Buck could see he was trying to calm himself down. 

His voice was thick, lower than before, “Stop lying to me. Stop telling me what I want to hear. Just tell me the fucking truth, Evan! Why are you keeping things from me?” 

Buck took a step back, a little jumpy now, and stood with his back against his apartment door. He’s seen Eddie angry. He’s seen Eddie angry with him. He recognizes all of the tell-tale signs. The squinted eyes, the accusatory tone laced with more venom than Buck can bear, the hand clasp in front of him that occasionally turns to a stabbing finger. He knows this Eddie. Not well, but he knows him. 

“I’m not lying, Eddie. I’m tired.” Buck’s voice has lost any fight he might’ve had. He’s done fighting with Eddie when he doesn’t understand what’s going on within himself either. He’s done fighting to maintain a friendship that’s too hard for him right now. “I’m—I can’t function properly right now, Eddie. I am tired, probably because I’m not sleeping due to all of my fucked up dreams and constant worrying about doing something stupid like last night.” He scrubs a hand over his face, letting out a shaky breath, “I know I’m exhausting, and, and I only think about my own problems. I know, and I’ve been trying to be better, Eddie.”

Eddie’s brow furrows, “What are you talking about, Buck? Who said you were exhausting?”

He tilts his head, feeling a white, hot pang shoot through him. He doesn’t remember. Eddie doesn’t even remember saying the words that have torn buck apart for months. Of course he doesn’t. Only Buck seems to remember all of the bad things. It’s like he’s the only one who can’t turn it off. He can’t just stop feeling it all for two minutes. 

He always said that after the Seals let him go that it was a blessing because he didn’t want to be a mindless robot. He liked being able to go out and do the bad ass heroic shit while also feeling good about helping people. At the end of the day he wanted to feel everything. It made him feel human, but it hurts. 

Buck could feel a tear slide down his cheek, and Eddie’s eyes widened slightly. He started to step toward him, to comfort him like he’d done several times before, but stopped before he actually took the step. He stopped himself from caring for him in that moment, Buck could feel it, because Eddie could turn it off. 

God, he hurt so much. He wanted to laugh at how naive he felt after claiming he was getting better only a day ago. Buck wasn’t better. He was in the part of his dreams where he’s treading water, but he’s tired of floating. He’s tired, and he’s hurt. It hurts because he’s feeling too much; he’s caring too much, and he wanted to scream. He wanted to shout out that he was hurting and needed help! But...but everyone had other problems. Everyone had other things going on.

— _ you’re exhausting—  _

“Buck, please let me help you. We can pretend last night never happened. We can do whatever you want.” Eddie did take a small step forward this time. He took a small step that just wasn’t enough for Buck at the moment. He needed more from him. Buck was tired of giving more of himself than he could afford to give away. He couldn’t do it right now.

Without another word, he left Eddie standing in the hallway. Without another word he left Maddie alone in the kitchen. Without another word he climbed the stairs and threw himself into the bed, curling into a ball under the thick blankets. Then, and only then, did he allow himself to let the rest of his tears fall. 

//////

Maddie left soon after it was clear Buck wasn’t rolling his large body out of the bed anytime soon. He refused to speak to her or acknowledge she was even trying to get his attention, hoping sleep would come quickly, so he could wake up in a better mood without the lingering emotions he was feeling.

Fortunately he slipped into a heavy, deep sleep before he had time to even register Maddie had left. He was in such a deep sleep he didn’t even have any nightmares. The extra sleep without the extra dying in his subconscious made for a much more pleasant experience than usual.

Unfortunately he felt worse when he woke up. It was afternoon, sunlight streaming in from every crevice of his apartment. He groaned and complained as he hauled himself out of bed toward the bathroom. His head felt heavy, and he let it lull to one side lazily. He thought a shower might make him feel a little better, but even the hot water and clean clothes couldn’t pull him out of the heaviness he felt. He wasn’t sure how to explain it, the chasm he felt. He felt dark and empty yet overflowing at the same time. He felt drained, more sleep-deprived than he’d been in the past month even though he just slept for six hours straight.

Buck only went through the motions because today was an important day. He was meeting with Kaley at the park for his first outing with the kids, and while he was happy, excited even, to meet the kids, all he wanted to do was crawl back inside his warm bed.

But he didn’t. He pulled on his jeans and a clean, long sleeve tee. He brushed his hair and teeth. He went through his usual checklist like a robot, not really remembering any of it.

He recognized this crippling feeling. He finally realize what the fuck he was feeling whenever he locked his door. He just felt a little sad. Buck was only a little sad today, and rightfully so. He’d felt a lot of things he didn’t want to all at once this morning. It made sense.

Buck was just  _ tired _ —always tired—of being sad.

//////

“Mr. Buckley!” Kaley waves him over to the picnic tables she’s reserved. He eyes the contents, seeing several different snacks and drinks laid out for the kids. “I’m so happy you were able to make it. The kids are so excited.”

“Please, call me Buck.” He pleads.

She smiles warmly, “Okay, Buck. Do you want to go meet some of the kids?”

He did. He really did, but he also wanted to sit down for a few seconds in the shade of that big tree in the corner of the park that no one was playing under. “Yeah,” He said instead, “let’s go.”

She guides him through throngs of people toward a cluster of children playing at the back of the playground around a large tire swing. She grabs a little girl, holding her hand sweetly as she walks her over to where Buck is standing. The girl she brought over looks to be around Chris’s age. The little girl looks familiar for some reason, but he can’t place her. He skims over her blonde hair, curly locks falling down her back in a mess, and blue eyes. She’s smiling at him like she's known him forever.

Buck kneels in front of her, extending his large hand out to her for a very mature greeting, “Hey, I’m Buck.”

Kaley squats with them, “Can you tell Buck your name?”

“I’m Samantha Elizabeth Franklin.” Samantha grins happily, showcasing an empty space where he front teeth should be.

“It’s nice to meet you, Samantha.” Buck marvels at the feel of her tiny hand in his. He feels warm and happy staring at her.

“My friends call me Sam.” She says matter-of-factly. Then she screws up her face, leaning in a little, “Why is your name Buck?”

He chuckles, “It’s a nickname. You don’t like it?”

“My brother has a doll he calls Bucky.” She taps her chin thoughtfully, like she’s planning to elaborate but doesn’t.

“How about instead you call me Evan? That’s my name.”

She nods, “I like it. You don’t look like a Buck, Evan.” 

He can’t help but laugh at that. That was a first for him, and probably the last. He doubted he’d ever hear another person over the age of seven say something like that to him. It wasn’t that he disliked being called by his given name. He didn’t mind actually. He just always liked having a nickname more. It made him feel included and a part of a team.

“Do you want Evan to play with you and the others for a little while today?” Kaley asks, lowering her voice and blushing when she calls him by his name. This is a side of Kaley he could actually like. He watches her interact with the kids for a few minutes to solve some kind of sharing crisis while he stands to the side with Sam, who holds his hand like she wants to make sure he doesn’t run away.

“Let’s go swing.” Sam announces suddenly, pulling him in the opposite direction of Kaley and the others. He makes eye contact with Kaley quickly, but she just giggles, waving him on with the little girl.

And he spends hours playing with Sam, and eventually, when she finally decides to share him, with a few other children that want to know all about Buck putting out fires and saving cats from trees. He’s pretty sure he’s never had to rescue a cat from a tree before, but he tells the kids he has a hundred times. Kaley laughs along with the kids, hanging on every word he says, and he can feel himself start to lighten around this mismatched crowd. That heaviness that had settled in his chest this morning that made him want to curl in a ball and cry started to lessen throughout his visit until he was genuinely happy he’d ventured out of the house to stick with this promise to himself.

By the end of the afternoon he was run ragged from the various games of tag, hide-and-seek, and kickball he’d played with, not only the kids in his group, but also some other kids scattered about the playground. He was ready for a big meal and more rest before his shift tomorrow. But he was also kind of...bummed his day with the children was coming to a close already. Even Kaley had been great, a modern day super nanny. She navigated to kids like a pro, and Buck watched her like she was spinning gold throughout the day. She looked as ragged as he probably did with her hair in a sloppy bun, dark tendrils spilling all around her face. Her shirt was rumpled and covered in sweat. She looked exhausted, but she still wore a smile. A smile that was genuine and touched her eyes softly as she spoke with the children. 

Buck was so impressed with her that he almost forgot why he was so annoyed with her to begin with. Almost. It wasn’t until all the kids left that he remembered. She rambled on enough about the day for the both of them, only stopping to catch her breath, or let Buck get in his pathetic one word response.

“Anyways I think today was a huge success. How do you feel about coming out with us again?” She asks as he walks her to her car. 

“I’d love to. I’d like to, maybe, set-up a time for them to tour the firehouse, if that’s okay?” Buck shoves his hands into his jean pockets, feeling a little anxious all of a sudden.

Kaley’s answering grin is accompanied by a soft touch on Buck’s arm, “The kids would love that! Anytime you’re off is a good time for us to schedule it with the parents.”

He heaves out a relieved sigh, “Okay, great. That’s really—I’m excited for next time.”

“I’ll call you with a date for the next outing. Thanks again, buck. I’ve never seen the kids as happy as they were today with you.”

Buck couldn’t stop the tightness in his chest, and he didn’t want to this time. This time he welcomed the warmth that exploded throughout his body, reveling in the heat that flooded his cheeks awkwardly. He’d never been so happy to be so embarrassed at the slightest praise.

/////

Buck was ready for his shift to end before the first call was even over. He’d made dumb mistakes all day that had resulted in a lot of concerned looks from the rest of the crew. Well, everyone except Eddie who was promptly ignoring him. Not that Buck was going out of his way to chat idly with the man. In fact it could be said that Buck was the one avoiding Eddie. Not that he viewed it that way.

Bobby had lingered at his side all day, hovering over him and checking on Buck constantly. He chalked it up to all of Buck’s fuck up through out the long shift, but he felt a tremor run down his spine when Bobby called him to his office at the end of shift.

He was anxious. He was always anxious lately, but he was especially anxious after the day he had.

Bobby was sitting behind his desk, scribbling in a file quickly as Buck sat in one of the chairs he’d sat in not too long ago. It felt like ages ago that he’d come to Bobby for guidance. 

“Cap, what’s up?” Buck tries for casual, ignoring the way his voice cracks.

Bobby clicks his pen, giving Buck his undivided attention, and clasps his hands in front of him on the desktop. “Frank faxed the department a few papers that I need to go over with you.”

“What papers?”

“Frank thinks it would be extremely beneficial if…” Bobby pauses, sighing, “you took a small leave.”

Buck’s vision starts to blur. “But I...I just came back, Bobby.”

“Take a breath, Buck. He thinks a few days would suffice.” Bobby tries.

Buck swallows, suddenly following the pattern in the carpet. He traces it from one end of the desk to the other, begging for his heart to calm. When he’s able to catch his breath, he says, “They can’t do this to me again.”

Bobby rounds the desk to sit in the chair beside his, “I signed off on it already, Buck. I think you need to take a few days to focus on where your head's at.”

Buck slams his fist onto Bobby’s desk. The sound echoes in the room, ricocheting off of every surface until it’s back at Buck, strangling him. He doesn’t know what to say or do. He can’t keep his head clear enough to think.

“Buck…”

He stands, pacing the room for a moment before starting toward the door, “You can’t do this to me again, Bobby. I need to be here.”

“No, Buck. You need to get better.”

“I can’t do that without—,” the words clump together in his throat. He wants to sag to the floor in defeat. “Frank said I was getting better. I am nothing without this job, Bobby. Please don’t take it from me again.”

“It’s only a few days, Buck. It’ll be okay. Your job will be here when you get back.”

Buck is shaking with anger. It’s pulsing through him like never before at Bobby’s nonchalant words. This is Buck’s future he’s talking about. Buck is trying to convey how important this is to him, how insecure he is about this job, and he feels dismissed.

“That’s what you said last time! You promised me a job to come back to. I fought through hell to get back to this station, to this family, and you replaced me!” Buck roared. “Don’t try to—,” Buck takes a shaky breath, “Your reassurance doesn’t mean anything to me, Bobby.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was such a hard one for me. Buck is just so sad, and a sad Buck is hard. I want to erase his pain, but unfortunately it doesn't work where I can take a magic eraser to it. Have hope though. Our baby boy won't always be sad.


	8. i will find you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He wanted to close his eyes and stay like this for a few hours just to keep this...this warmth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when I said I have no update schedule? 
> 
> So there's a little surprise at the beginning that I felt like was a little necessary. This fic is still from Buck's pov, but I thought it added a nice little break in the story.
> 
> This is kind of a boring chappie in my opinion. I feel like it's a real info dump, but it's also setting up for the following chappies and where Buck's journey is taking him.
> 
> Again I am on twitter @ fernnette being super annoying to everyone so come follow me :)

Eddie Diaz couldn’t remember a time when he’d felt so out of sorts. He’d been to war, an army medic in the middle of a fucking crisis, a single father caring for his disabled son, and still none of that compared to the sheer inability to comprehend what the fuck was going on with him lately. He didn’t like feeling like this, like he couldn’t formulate the correct response to a question, and the question should’ve had an easy answer. One week ago Eddie would’ve been able to ramble off a reply without hesitation, but he couldn’t anymore. 

Who is Evan Buckley to you? That’s the question. If Hen had asked him that a week ago, just seven days, Eddie would’ve been able to easily spout off that Buck was his best friend. Probably the best friend Eddie’s ever had. Hell, Eddie would even go as far to say Buck was family. He’d been there from the beginning of his time at the one-eighteen, helping Eddie whenever he needed it, going above and beyond for him and Chris. Eddie hadn’t questioned Buck's place in his life. He’d never had a reason.

Until now.

Until Buck decided to plant a soft kiss on his lips that left him so stunned he couldn’t move for several minutes. So long that Maddie found him in the kitchen alone, staring at the space Buck had stood in when they were just chatting. He froze, not kissing him back, not making any sudden movements because what the fuck was happening? Eddie had never kissed a man. The thought had never crossed his mind...ever.

Then suddenly, out of the goddamn blue, his best friend is kissing him at a friendly barbecue where their coworkers and family were. Chris was outside with Harry and Denny playing. Maddie was lounging with Chim. So many people could have caught them because Buck decided to kiss him in Bobby and Athena’s kitchen!

Eddie had been so disoriented that when he finally made it to Buck’s the next morning to talk that he forgot the lecture about staying calm he’d given himself on the way over. He told himself that since Buck had confided in him--finally--about some of the things he’d been dealing with, he felt like he needed to handle him with kid gloves. But of course he didn’t. He jumped ahead and forced himself to confirm with Buck that Eddie was indeed straight, that he was in no way gay. 

But the entire interaction left him feeling itchy all over. Itchy and uncomfortable. Buck was clearly emotional about more than just the kiss, but all Eddie could focus on was the kiss because it had consumed his entire being since it happened. Eddie knew he was being selfish by pushing when Buck clearly didn’t need to be pushed. He knew he wasn’t being a good friend. He knew that if Buck was feeling just as confused as he was that he needed to stop and take a breath.

Buck was tired and clearly going through shit. He could see it on his face, and that’s the only reason he kept pushing. He wanted Buck to be honest with him about everything going on with him the same way Eddie was truthful with him. The thought to hold back from most people crossed his mind all the time, but Buck wasn’t most people. Buck was...more.

You’re exhausting… That’s what Buck had said.

He wouldn’t elaborate or explain. He just walked away, and it felt like his heart was breaking. Not in a way that made him confused again, but in a way that made him ache for his friend. Eddie wasn’t good with words. He couldn’t get his shit together well enough in his head to make it sound right when it came out, so more often than not he just didn’t say anything. 

So he let him walk away even though he could feel a little part of him breaking for the man he’d do  _ anything _ for.

//////

Buck was lonely. He had only been on temporary leave—yes, it made him feel better to consistently call it temporary—for one day. One whole day of stewing in every feeling he’d been having. One whole day of mapping a damn chart of his emotions that he surprisingly still didn’t understand completely. Fortunately he was starting to grasp at the little tendrils of hints Frank, who he wanted to pummel at the moment, had put into his head in their previous sessions. 

Fortunately Buck had plenty of time to think about all of the things he’d been pushing to the back of his mind for a while now. Unfortunately he spent the entire reflective period in his bed. He wrapped his blankets around his body tightly, warmth radiating throughout his body to the point of sweat accumulating in such copious amounts he’d have to wash the sheets after his pity party. He probably wouldn’t though. 

He thought about how he left Bobby standing in his office, mouth hanging open, eyes sinking with the brutality Buck displayed toward him. As soon as he took off toward the stairs, he wished he hadn’t said anything. Well, he wished he hadn’t yelled it for the entire station to hear because as he left the firehouse in a hurry, he met Hen and Chim’s eyes on the way out, taking note of their shocked expressions. He even had to face Eddie who shoved his hands into his pockets, looking down as Buck passed him. 

He was on the outs again. Forced out of the one place that made him feel whole at the moment. Being back at the one-eighteen let Buck hold onto a little sliver of hope, like as long as he had this job he’d be okay. He didn’t know how to grasp at the emptiness he felt without it because even if Bobby did try to reassure him that the leave was only temporary, Buck just couldn’t quite believe him. His leg injury was temporary, and the department—Bobby—tried to shut him out. He felt betrayed again by someone he thought would always have his back. He needed Bobby to have his best interest at heart, and all he thought about was what was best for him. It was easier to dismiss Buck rather than work with him to help him during this already trying time.

Now he was forced to stay home, to focus on his mental health, in a place where he felt more alone and empty than before. Buck suddenly didn’t have control over his life. It was chaotic and messy, feelings and thoughts scattered about in no particular order but all begging for attention at once. Begging to be mulled over and understood. 

He could understand Bobby. He could understand the rash decisions of the Captain, and his obvious priority to always protect the one-eighteen. Buck really could understand all of that. As much as it felt like a knife wound in his abdomen, he knew what it was like to want to protect everyone, even if it meant from himself.

The bigger, heavier thing pressing against his chest, suffocating him in its desperation to be let out and free, was Eddie. Eddie who had tried to call and message several times even though Buck never answered. He didn’t answer, even though he wanted to, because he wanted to spill his guts in an enormous pile of word vomit to him. He wanted to tell Eddie that he was sad and empty, nothing but a hollow shell of Evan Buckley lately. He wanted to hate him for coming into his life like a whirlwind, for accepting his flaws and showing him friendship despite all of them, for introducing Chris into his life, for trusting him more than Buck trusts himself. He wanted to hate him for all the reasons he was eternally grateful for him.

At first Buck didn’t want to admit it, but everything about Eddie lately was beginning to get under his skin. Even thinking about him made him itch and that tightness squeeze at his chest. Every time Buck thought about the way he clasped his hands in front of his body when he was angry, or the big smile he wore whenever Chris did so much as breathe, or the concentrated stare he had whenever he was working made him tense in a way he wasn’t used to. 

Well, he was most definitely  _ familiar  _ with the feeling. He’d felt it before. He’d felt it many times in his life, more than he’d like to admit, during the Buck 1.0 phase. He’d just never felt it for a man. Never in his life had he felt a ripple in his stomach or a tightness in his jeans over a man before until recently.

Until Eddie.

So on top of all of the betrayal and utter disappointment he felt spilling over into his life, he had to deal with some kid of budding feelings for his best friend that were in no way platonic. Buck could feel it in the way he had started to notice Eddie more. He took note of the way he smiled at him. He took note of the way his hand laid heavy on his shoulder in a way that made him feel safe and loved. He took note of the way Eddie said his name, letting it roll off of his tongue like it was his favorite thing to say. 

Buck had tried to pretend he didn’t notice the way he was paying extra close attention to Eddie. He tried to ignore the tightness in his chest, saying it was new and unfamiliar, when he knew it was his heart trying to tell him the truth. He wanted to chalk everything up to his nightmares, or his guilt, or even that he deserved every bit of pain he felt. That karma was coming to collect, and this was just part of the punishment he had to endure.

But it suddenly became harder to ignore all of his feelings, not just the ones for Eddie, when he had plenty of time in the day to sit and reflect now. He’d wanted to be mad at Bobby, at Frank, for suggesting he take a temporary leave. He was beyond furious in the moment, but the more he sat on it, the more he realized just how much he needed to figure his shit out. That he needed to trust his team as much as they needed to trust him. He needed to believe Bobby when he said he’d have a job to come back to. He needed to believe Frank when he said Buck would eventually feel better, more himself than ever. He needed to believe Eddie and Maddie when they said they wanted to help him. 

Buck had things within himself that he needed to take care of before he could work on anything else. He had things on the inside that hindered him from moving forward in life, and he could feel all of those  _ things _ binding him, keeping him tethered to the pain and the hurt. 

And it was about damn time he broke free.

//////

“Evan, I was surprised to get your call.”

He stared out of the window, letting the warmth from the blinding sun shine on his face. He basked in it, feeling slightly more normal than he had in two days. He wanted to close his eyes and stay like this for a few hours just to keep this...this  _ warmth. _

He couldn’t though, so he turned to face him, swallowing calmly, “I was surprised you were able to move my appointment up.”

Frank clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, “Well, when I received an update from Captain Nash, I planned to reach out anyways.” He met Buck’s stare, a curious gleam in his eyes, “How are you holding up?”

He picked at his nails, looking away from him so he could gather his thoughts, “I’m...lost honestly, Frank.”

“Lost… I was expecting something different.”

Buck looks up, “I can try again?”

Frank chuckles, “No, no. I was expecting you to...gloss over everything, that I’d have to really work to get anything real from you, but you came right out with it.”

Buck shrugs, leaving back, “No point denying anymore. I’m where I’m at now because I refused to accept help.”

“You didn’t refuse help, Evan. You just didn’t think you deserved help.” Frank replies.

He’s not sure what to say to that. He knows he’s right, that all this time he’d pushed everyone away because he didn’t want to bother anyone else, that he didn’t deserve their help. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“So agreeable today, Evan. What’s made you turn over a new leaf?” Frank asks, “What’s made you gain some clarity?”

“Laying in bed for two days.” He says immediately and shrugs, “Can’t escape your thoughts then.”

“What kind of thoughts? What did you think about during your time?”

Buck pulls a sheet of paper out of his pocket, waving it triumphantly when he unfolds it, “I made a list because I knew you’d ask.”

Frank accepts the paper with a small grin, “That is my job.”

Buck watches his eyes skim down the list, brow furrowing deeper and deeper the further down he gets. Buck wished he felt some kind of anxiety, but it’s like he’s come to a point where he just doesn’t care anymore. He’s numb to the constant pain. What used to control him in a throbbing, slicing pain, has now become a dull ache throughout him that only makes him slightly uncomfortable.

Frank clears his throat, “This is quite a list. You’ve thought about all of this?”

Buck nods slowly, “Every time I thought of something new, I wrote it down.” He taps his temple while smirking, “Smart.”

“There are a few  _ big _ things on here. Life-altering things, Evan.”

“Yeah, trust me, I know.”

Frank lays the paper in his lap, “Let’s talk about the obvious one right now. What did you mean “blaming Frank?” What do you blame me for?”

His tone isn’t accusatory or judgmental. He’s just genuinely curious. Buck sniffs, “You know, for sending Bobby the temporary leave suggestion.”

Frank’s brow furrows and his eyes narrow, “Did Bobby tell you this? That I sent the recommendation?”

“Yeah, and Frank, honestly, it’s okay. You were right. I needed a break.” Buck says quickly. “I wasn’t able to do my job because I was too focused on myself.”

Frank’s mouth hung open for a moment, staring at Buck in disbelief, and he felt a little proud he’d shocked Frank with his rationale.

“Interesting…” He picked up his pen, scribbling quickly on his notepad before looking back at Buck, clearing his throat awkwardly. He picks up Buck’s list and says, “Let’s move on to another one.”

“Okay,” Buck muttered.

“Honestly the biggest one popping out at me is—” 

Buck interrupts him, “Eddie. I know.”

Frank nods, “This is a big development. To acknowledge feelings for another man when you’ve identified as a heterosexual male your entire life.”

“I’ve never made some kind of announcement, like PSA: I’m straight.” Buck says defensively.

“No, a coming out, if you will, isn’t considered necessary when you like the opposite sex. Being heterosexual is the default.” Frank says, using his hands to gesture as he speaks, “Most men and women don’t think to question their sexuality. It is assumed for them by their family, or societal pressures, and they just struggle through thinking whatever they’re feeling is common in a male-female relationship.”

Buck thinks back to his childhood. He didn’t have the best parents. They were strict and made more mistakes with him than he’d like to admit all because he was their only son. By the time Maddie left, Buck had learned how to get through each day without causing an uproar. 

But he did remember…

“I remember playing one day,” he swallows, “with a little boy who lived close to us. It was raining, so we, we went to his house. His parents were—they were nice. Always asked if I wanted to stay for dinner. Nice people…” Buck trails off, momentarily distracted. He clears his throat, “My dad came over to get me, and he saw us in the back room playing with his little sister’s dolls. He was—I’d never seen him so, so panicked. Not even mad. He just kept mumbling to himself, like he’d gone crazy.”

Frank’s eyes are narrowed as he listens, letting Buck know he’s taking in every word. After a moment he leans back slightly, cocking his head to the side, “What was your father mumbling?”

“He said it over and over… Please don’t let my—” Buck stopped, throwing his head back and squeezing his eyes closed, trying to get himself focused again. Finally he took a breath and leveled his gaze at Frank, “Don’t let my son be gay. He was  _ begging _ for his son not to be gay.”

“How does that make you feel?” 

Buck snorts, “Pressured.”

“Pressured to feel a certain way that you don’t?” Frank presses.

“I guess. I have found myself thinking of Eddie in a way that doesn’t feel...friendly?” 

Frank nods, “Do you want to tell me what you’re feeling exactly?”

He hesitates, not for being unsure of what he feels, but for being unsure of how to accurately express it. “He makes my chest hurt.” Buck decides then scrunches his nose, “Well, he doesn’t—I just mean I get this tightness in my chest whenever he’s around, or I think about him.”

“I understand that feeling. I’ve felt it myself.”

Buck breathes out a sigh of relief and leans forward, “I realized that—that he’s been my safe place, like no matter what I’d always have him. The thought of losing his friendship— it makes me physically hurt, so when I kissed him after—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. You kissed him?” Frank questions.

Buck has the decency to blush, feeling more than a little embarrassed about it now that it’s no longer a secret kept between friends, “Yeah, I’d had a little to drink, and it just...happened.”

“How did Eddie take this?”

Buck snorts, rolling his eyes, “He came over to my apartment to tell me he wasn’t gay then got mad at me.” He pauses, leaning back again and rubbing his jaw, “He acted like he was...disgusted by me? Like my potential gayness was contagious.”

Frank lets out a little laugh that makes Buck grin at the absurdity of it, “Unfortunately, Evan, that’s a good way to put it for Eddie. He’s a straight man who has, like you, probably always identified that way. Not everyone is open to accepting something so...complicated.”

“It’s not easy for me either, Frank.” Buck says, rubbing his palms on his sweats, “I’m feeling a little out of my fucking mind.”

“That’s very understandable. It’s a little overwhelming, and the fact that your best friend is the one making you question yourself is incredibly difficult.”

Buck inhales, “I’m going to have to talk to him about it, aren’t I? You’re going to suggest I talk to Eddie.”

“No, actually. You’re not even sure of yourself right now, Evan. You don’t need to confuse Eddie or yourself even more than you already are.” He states, scribbling on his notepad, “I do think you should take some time out of your day to research and really try to figure out your sexuality. Be patient with yourself. You don’t have to have everything figured out by the end of the day.”

Buck finds his eyes drifting back to the carpet pattern, tracing it lazily, that has become a grounding mechanism for him. He can feel his heart racing at the prospect of committing to this new development. Yes, he’s thought too much about Eddie, and what his weird feelings might mean. But now, with Frank asking him to sort it all out, it feels too real, too suffocating. He wants to, like everything else, keep these unwanted feelings bottled up inside until they fester and grow out of control like all the other things in his life has recently. 

He was tired of complicated and hard. Buck was ready for easy and simple. 

//////

Buck always had this naive thought that he’d feel better after talking to Frank. He always thought that because he addressed his problems with him that he’d go home feeling normal and ready to go back to work. He thought that he could convince himself that he was feeling a certain way that he wasn’t.

It was one of those nights. The kind of night that tricked him into believing sleep would come easy, and his nightmares would stay at bay. The kind of night that let a false blanket of security cover him. He went to sleep without thinking, without replaying Frank’s words in his head. He just climbed in bed, forcing his brain to turn off for one night. Please, just one night. 

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t sleep peacefully with everything on his mind. He couldn’t not think about his session with Frank, over analyzing every word that came out of his mouth. 

So he ran. He ran and ran until his chest hurt, and his legs were numb. He ran until he had a little more clarity. But his brain… His brain wanted to switch off, to let him lay in bed and wallow until the department let him come back.

He wanted to be mad at Frank for suggesting this without telling him. He thought back to his face though when Buck told him why he blamed him, and there was genuine shock there. Did he not know that Bobby would tell him about the recommendation? Buck couldn’t imagine Frank being unclear on the procedural aspect of the whole ordeal. 

Buck stopped running, hands on his hips, breathing heavily as sweat dripped down his face. Buck knew how the department handled taking any type of leave, and if Buck understood the procedure, there’s no way Frank, who worked with the department, didn’t know. 

Buck suddenly felt unsettled, anger bubbling out of him in a way he hadn’t felt before. He wanted to believe that Bobby wouldn’t lie to him, that Bobby had his best intentions at heart, but he knew after the lawsuit that Bobby had a twisted way of trying to combine doing what’s best for the station and Buck even if it hurt Buck in the long run. He knew after everything that Bobby tried too hard to draw the line between friend and captain, that at the end of the day, even if Buck considered him family, for Bobby he was just a part of the crew, another underling he had to manage. 

And as much as he wanted to be understanding—needed to be understanding for his own mental state—he couldn’t. He had given his whole life to this job, fought through hell to get back to it. This job was everything to him, and he was  _ tired _ of being too damn understanding, too damn willing to submit. He'd let his fear dictate every part of his life recently, in his personal and professional life. 

This job was engraved into his bones. He felt lost and empty without it, without the uniform, without helping people. Being a firefighter was his purpose, and he’d be damned if he lost his purpose in this life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had inspiration for the ending of this from an acquaintance I've made on twitter. The way she described her love for her job reminded me so much of Buck. So thank you to her.


	9. like the wind that cries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i don't know what that means

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! A little later than intended, but at least it's here now.
> 
> Thank you for all of the love on this. It's become my little baby, and without your support I would've stopped updating by now. LMAO
> 
> I'm on twitter boosting everyone and being super annoying so follow me @ fernnette

“Do you think my mama’s back will really break if I step on a crack?”

Buck looked down at Sam, who’s holding his hand, all curled up in his larger one, while walking on her tippy toes to strategically avoid any cracks in the sidewalk. He’d been surprised when Kaley had messaged him with a spontaneous day of play she’d managed to arrange with a few of the kids. He immediately jumped on the opportunity to get his mind off of all the other thousand things he was constantly thinking about.

“I don’t think that’s true, Sam.” Buck chuckled, swinging their arms a little as they began climbing the stairs leading up to the big slide. He had felt Sam squeezing his hand tighter and tighter as they went higher up the steps. Buck grinned, poking his around to see her face contorted into a cute little scowl, “You know you don’t have to go down the big slide just because the others did?”

She shook her head, the blonde ponytail smacking Buck in the face a couple of times, “I want to go down, Evan. I’m not a baby.”

“I know that. Going down the small slide doesn’t mean you’re a baby though.”

She turned toward him a little, “Mama says that only babies go down the small slide.” She continued up the stairs, leaving Buck at a loss for words, before she spoke again, “I’m scared, but I’ll never know if I like it unless I try, right, Evan?”

/////

He didn’t want to admit it. In fact he’d rather just not acknowledge it in the first place because then he’d have to think about how a certain seven-year-old’s words on fear made him stop being a coward for approximately five minutes to come to the station only to sit at the table by himself while he waited for the crew to return from a call. He felt his courage dwindling by the second, slowly draining out of him right along with the anger he’d felt only moments ago when he’d strutted into the house like he was large and in-charge.

He wanted to stand and briskly walk out of the station like he never even came. He wanted to stop questioning Bobby because that only made him develop a twitch when he thought about how much it hurt. He only came to get answers. He just wanted Bobby to clarify and confirm that Buck was being a little nuts in his thinking that Bobby would ever do this to him for a second time.

By the time he finally unsticks his ass from the chair, it’s too late to tuck tail and run. The truck is backing into the station, and the crew is piling out, smiling and laughing with each other. His heart aches for how much he’s missed being a part of that—the camaraderie and playfulness. He’s sat at home for four days trying to piece himself back together in some way all while feeling like the missing piece to miraculously fix him was here the whole time. 

Chim and Hen notice him first, meeting his eyes over the railing and casting him a genuine smile. He waits for them to come to him, rubbing his hands along his thighs. He can feel his heart pumping a mile a minute from his impending conversation with Bobby but also at the sight of Eddie. Buck had ignored every single one of his calls and messages, opting to take Frank’s advice to an extreme level in hopes it gave him some clarity. News flash: it didn’t.

“Never thought I’d say this, but I’m actually missing your face around here, Buckaroo,” Hen laughs, giving him a loose hug while Chim claps him on the back.

Buck chuckles, trying to keep his composure, “Thank you, I think?”

“What our dear Chim really means is,” Hen starts, clapping Chim’s shoulders with a big grin, “he can’t wait for you to come back so we’ll stop teasing him and bring the torture back to you.”

Buck clutches his heart, “Now why would I ever want to come back?”

Chim holds his hands up in surrender, “I’m tired of being the punching bag. If we think about the order of things, Eddie should be the one getting poked at all day. Not me.”

“I’m all ears, Chim,” Eddie smirks, clasping his hands together cockily in front of him. Buck smiles, one of the first genuine in a while, reveling at the easy nature they’ve managed to settle into even with Buck’s mental health looming over them like a dark cloud. 

Hen laughs, forcing Bobby to step in, “Okay, okay. No one is a punching bag.”

“Except Buckaroo,” Chim grins cheekily. 

Buck scrunches his nose, thinking of a clever comeback, but he stops short when he realizes Bobby is making _that_ face at him. The face that says he’s worried and hoping Buck’s not here to make a scene. 

“How’re you feeling, Buck?” Bobby asks, stepping around him to grab a bottle of water out of the kitchen. He takes a minute to toss everyone a bottle except Buck who refuses out of fear he’d spill it everywhere Since he’s suddenly too nervous to function. 

He clears his throat, “Good. Yeah, good. The time off has been good.”

“That’s a lot of goods there, Buckaroo.” Chim says, leaning his hip onto the table.

He lets out a nervous chuckle, “I guess it is, huh.” 

Eddie hangs back, out of the way but clearly still listening, and Buck finds himself wanting to go over to him first. He stops himself before he can, making a conscious effort to step toward Bobby before he did something stupid again.

“Actually, I came to talk to you about something, Cap.” Buck says a little louder than he intended to, like the words burst out of him after being stuck in his throat. 

Bobby nods, the look on his face saying he expected this, “Let’s go in my office.” 

He leads the way, holding the heavy door open for Buck to pass through before making sure it’s shut. Unlike the previous times they’ve talked in here, Bobby immediately sits in the chair beside Buck instead of behind his desk. 

Before Buck can even begin to get his thoughts out, Bobby sighs and says, “Frank called. He said you moved your appointment up.”

Buck just nodded, a little unsure of himself in this situation. 

“He was very upset with me in particular though,” Bobby lets out a soft laugh, “Can’t say I blame him.”

Buck lifts his head, angling it slightly as he narrows his eyes at the older man. He didn’t want to ask what he was about to ask. The thought of confirming something he’d convinced himself couldn’t be true made him want to flee even more than before. He moved to the edge of his seat, rubbing his forehead, “So he didn’t suggest a leave? He didn’t—he didn’t send you a recommendation? Bobby…?”

Buck could hear the rasp in his voice, the ultimate desperation for Bobby to explain the whole situation away. He needed something to grasp at so he didn’t slip further into this hole. He needed Bobby to say he’d made a mistake, or that the paperwork was lost in transit, or… Buck needed something even if it was a lie.

But Bobby shut his eyes, leaning forward to come closer to him. His hands were clasped in front of him, hanging limply between his knees. His brows furrow, lips thinning as he regards him like he can’t find the right words.

“Frank didn’t recommend your leave, Buck.” 

Numb. Blindly nodding as if his body is working in autopilot.

He scrunches his nose, brows furrowed, “So you gave me the boot again.” It’s not a question, and Buck doesn’t phrase it as one. He knows that’s exactly what Bobby did. 

“No,” Bobby responds immediately. 

He watches him scrub a hand over his jaw, leaning back to look out the glass windows which show the rest of the team watching every detail, turning around swiftly when they’ve been caught.

“Listen, kid, there was nothing I could do.” 

Buck stood, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth as he squeezed his eyes shut, head tilted toward the ceiling. He was tired of this. Of fighting to be here when they didn’t want him. He exhales shakily, “I don’t know what that means, Bobby. I don’t understand any— _any_ of this.”

“Buck, you sued the department.” Bobby pleads with him, trying to get him to read between the lines, but he can’t. He can’t even see the lines. Everything is blurred for him right now, and he’s not sure how he’ll even make it out of the building.

Buck held his hands out by his sides, more confused than ever, “And I thought I was, was fixing everything. I haven’t caused any problems. I’ve been—”

“Buck,” Bobby steps to him, hand falling on his shoulder, “you sued the department, and my bosses are breathing down my neck to find some way to terminate you in a legal way.”

“What are you saying?”

“I don’t want to give you an opportunity to get yourself fired.” Bobby sighs, “You were all over the place the other day. Your head wasn’t where it needed to be which is on the job. If you can’t stay focused, you can’t do this job, Buck.”

“This job is the only thing holding me together, Bobby.” He looks down, “This is where I need to be. I belong here as much as anyone else.”

Bobby nods, “I know, Buck, but in order for you to be here, you have to be able to give it your all.”

Buck snarls, “I always give everything I have to this job, Bobby. No one can say I don’t do my best.”

He nods, gesturing with his hands as he speaks, “I’ve seen you give a hundred and ten percent since you’ve been back, but the last week you were here, you couldn’t stay on task. You were zoning out in the middle of a call. You’re not sleeping or eating well. We can all see it, Buck.”

“I’m working on it.”

“We want you back with us. The station is damn empty without you here, but this is still a job. We are still working in a job that requires us to be more than we think is possible.”

He scrubs both hands over his face, wishing he could snap his fingers and be the old Buck again. In the end he couldn’t argue with him. He was right. Buck was slipping farther and farther until he couldn’t even give his all to the most important thing in his life: his job. 

It felt like the ultimate moment of clarity, like light bulbs flickering around him. He’d known all along that he wasn’t okay, that he had issues he clearly needed to work through, but for him nothing pushed him harder than Bobby telling him how off Buck had been. He could sit here and deny every shred of evidence laid out in front of him all day long, but no matter how he arranged it, everything added up to Buck’s inability to forgive himself and move on. It wasn’t even about his injury anymore, even though that still wrecked him. His issues lied deeper than that. 

Even as he walked away from Bobby and the crew, even as he walked away from the station, he felt a weird, silly sense of peace, like his world was starting to right itself even if nothing had changed. It changed within him. He felt that gaping hole shrink, that tightness loosen, and that heaviness on his shoulders lift. Somehow knowing how bad he’d been at his job made him feel better. It made it feel like he had something to work harder for. The same way he’d fought after his leg for five months. The same way he pushed his own fears aside to help others in the tsunami.

He makes a choice everyday to be better than the day before, to be better for the people in this city who need help, to be a better coworker to his peers, to be a better friend to Eddie. Everyday Buck makes the choice to be here, to do this job, and tomorrow when the time comes around, he’d make the same choice to make himself better for more than himself.

//////

It was a Friday afternoon when Buck finally decided to man up and message Eddie. He felt nervous, but not the kind of nervous he’d been feeling whenever he was around Eddie. It was more of an eager-nervous, a nervous that made him want to spill his guts in under thirty seconds. He had to restrain himself from just driving over to his house without messaging. A month ago that wouldn’t have been a problem, but it felt oddly foreign to him to just show up on his front porch.

**Evan Buckley, 2:43pm:** are you busy today?

He didn’t have to wait long for a response, smiling when his name flashed across the screen a moment later.

**Eddie Diaz, 2:44pm:** I’m off, and Chris is with abuela. What’s up?

His thumbs seemed to twitch over the keyboard, pressing the wrong letters until he finally got the message sent out. His hands were shaking, a strange energy settling in him.

**Evan Buckley, 2:46pm:** can we talk? i’ll bring beer and pizza

Buck was the epitome of cool, calm, and collected.

**Eddie Diaz, 2:51pm:** You know you’re always welcome, Buck.

Buck was the epitome of frantic, twitchy, and dopey.

//////

“Hey. Why’d you knock?”

Buck shifted nervously, squirming under Eddie’s curious gaze. He also wondered why he knocked. He never knocks when he comes over. He just barges right on in making his enormous presence known because that’s how he is. Usually he doesn’t have to worry about such a trivial thing like knocking since Chris was normally waiting for him in the window, so he could be there to tug him into the house for a game before Eddie inevitably asks him to wash up for dinner.

The point was that Buck felt differently now. Chris wasn’t here to greet him which was probably for the best. He had asked to come over so he could talk to Eddie about everything that had been going on with him. He was ready, or pretty sure he was ready, to get this baggage off his chest. He was ready to be truthful about all of it even if that meant things were awkward...even if that meant this was the end.

“Sorry, man.” Buck clears his throat, “ I didn’t think about it.”

He did. He thought about it because it just didn’t seem right anymore. It didn’t seem right to just come and go whenever he pleases anymore.

Eddie smiles softly, “It’s okay. No one here but me, so it was probably for the best so I didn’t come at you.” 

Buck felt himself laugh, easing into the conversation easily like he always did with Eddie, “You still think you could take me?”

“Oh, I know I could.” There’s a gleam in Eddie’s eyes that makes a familiar heat unfurl in his stomach, sending an ache throughout him and an itch all over his skin. 

His mouth quirks up, casting a smirk Eddie’s way, “We could find out right now.”

He wasn’t sure what the fuck he was doing. This suddenly felt a whole hell of a lot like flirting, but Buck could also count on both hands the number of times they’d had similar interactions like this, similar conversations that definitely didn’t make him hot and bothered just from the cool look on his face and smug smile playing on his lips. Buck was flirting. He was coming into his attraction too well for his liking. It was like now that he’d acknowledged it, he couldn’t stop it from taking over every single one of his conversations. It was new and a foreign concept to him, and it took up more space in his overflowing mind than he’d care to admit.

Eddie stared at him, stepping forward, crowding his space until Buck stopped breathing. He held on, tensed as Eddie grabbed the six-pack of beer from his tight grip. His fingers brushed Buck’s, sending a shock through him. He wanted to move or say something, but he couldn’t.

He watched in silence, a blush creeping up his neck to stain his cheeks, while Eddie took a few steps back into the house, “You coming?”

Buck shakes his head, not worrying about disorienting the already unorganized mess of thoughts in his head. He felt like at this point he couldn’t get any more confused than he already is.

He follows him back to the kitchen, placing the pizzas on the counter before waiting for Eddie to place the beer in the fridge, “I’m assuming you want one?”

“Yeah, definitely.”

Eddie nods, setting it in front of him on the table then leaning back a little too casually for Buck’s liking against the counter. He takes a gulp, licking his lips, “I’m also assuming there’s a reason you suddenly wanted to hang out after a couple of weeks?”

Buck his bottom lip, not really sure how he should go about what he’s about to say. His head was a mess before he came over, and he suddenly regretted telling himself he didn’t need to write it down like he did for Frank. 

Eddie sniffs, “We had a weird call yesterday. You would’ve loved it.”

“Yeah?” Buck feels himself relax slightly at Eddie’s redirection, giving him time to get whatever he wanted to say together. 

“Yeah, she was in a car accident.” Eddie starts, “She drove right into a coffee shop. Fortunately it was closed for the day.”

Buck smiles then cocks his head to the side, narrowing his eyes, “What about that would I have loved exactly?”

“She was hot. Totally would’ve flirted with you,” Eddie chuckles, taking another drag from his beer.

Buck groans, “I would not have loved that. Maybe past Buck–Buck 1.0–but not present Buck.”

“Please stop referring to yourself in third person.” Eddie laughs, “She gave me her number since you weren’t there to steal her away.”

Buck sobers, “Oh, you going to call her?”

“I might.” Eddie produces a small piece of paper from his pocket, unfolding it for Buck to see.

He scrunches his nose, pulling the paper closer to his face, “What kind of name is this? I don’t even…”

“It’s unique, kind of cute. I like it.” Eddie shrugs.

“You think Bunita is a cute name?” Buck asks, raising a brow at him.

He chuckles, pulling another long drag from his beer, “Any name for a woman like that would be hot, Buck.”

“If you say so.”

Eddie nods, grabbing a slice of pizza from the box and handing it to Buck before grabbing his own, “You ready now?”

Buck chuckles, but nervously stuffs a large bite in his mouth then washing it down with a hearty swig from his bottle. He clears his throat, “I just wanted to explain… I’m not sure where to start honestly.”

“Explain why you’re not working?”

He looks at him, confused, “Bobby didn’t tell you?”

Eddie shakes his head, dropping his bottle into the garbage and grabbing another one, “No, but that tells me it wasn’t on your list of topics.”

Buck sighs, “It’s not a list.”

“Okay, so what is it?”

“It’s just...some things I want to get off my chest, Eddie.” Buck manages, hoping the frustration in his tone isn’t misinterpreted. He’s not upset with Eddie. He’s upset with himself, that he can’t just get on with it.

“Are we going to talk about...ya know?” Eddie asks, leaning forward and lowering his voice, “When you...did what you did?”

Buck feels a bubble of laughter in his throat at how ridiculous he sounds, “Eddie, it’s a kiss. Just call it what it is.”

He averts his gaze, picking at his bottle in a similar way to the night the kiss actually happened. He can tell from the way his shoulders have tensed that he’s not really ready to talk about it, but Buck can’t keep it in anymore. He can’t keep bottling everything up until he’s ready to burst at the seams, potentially losing everything he cares about.

“I’ve been going to therapy, and, I think I told you that...but Frank’s been really helping me get a grip on the things that I’m struggling with.” Buck sucks in a breath, trying to calm his racing heart, “He actually told me not to talk to you until I wasn’t so confused, but I don’t follow directions well...so here I am.”

“Your therapist thought it’d be best if you talk to me?” Eddie asks, the hurt evident in his tone.

“Just until I wasn’t so confused, Eddie.”

He nods, sitting down at the table, gesturing for Buck to sit across from him, “I’m confusing to you?”

“Not in the way you think,” Buck starts, fully prepared to explain away the very thing he came over here to be honest about.

“Buck, you kissed me. I think it’s exactly the way I’m thinking.” Eddie says hotly, tearing a shred of his bottle label off. “I’m not _mad_. I just–You never told me you were...into men, Buck.”

Now it was Buck’s turn to hide his face, picking at an imaginary spot on the table. He wanted the floor to swallow him whole. He never imagined trying to tell your best friend you might be very attracted to him in a non-platonic way would be so fucking hard, but it was. It made Buck more nervous and afraid than running into burning buildings. This conversation was harder than doing the maneuver.

“I didn’t know, Eddie. I’m still not sure what to call this.” Buck admits quietly.

He can feel Eddie’s eyes staring daggers into the top of his where he’s ducked down to examine the tile pattern. Eddie taps the table once, “You aren’t sure if you’re into men, but you kissed me?”

“I’m not sure if I’m into... _all_ men or just…” Buck finally chances a glance at him, halting at the scared look on Eddie’s face. He looks utterly terrified. His lips are pulled down into a frown, brows turned down as he stares at Buck. 

He can’t finish suddenly. He can’t finish his thought for how afraid Eddie looks to hear it in the first place. This is what Buck wanted to avoid, this plaguing feeling that he was about to lose everything just because he couldn’t keep his emotions in check.

Buck felt exposed, stripped down until he was showing everything when he hadn’t even finished his first thought. He felt broken and equally as scared. Scared to lose Eddie. Scared to feel that loss on top of everything else. Scared of how he felt his feelings for him hit him like a ton of bricks, knocking him off balance in the worst way possible.

Because the truth was that he was in his head constantly. He was always in Buck’s thoughts taking up more room than he should’ve been allowed. He stood by him in the good times and the bad. He wanted to share every moment with him because Eddie was...everything. He had just been so scared, like Eddie is now, to realize he had always been more than a friend. 

So Buck cleared his throat, recognizing the fear, preparing to give him a way out. A way out of hearing whatever he was going to say next. A way to stop him from ever knowing how Buck feels.

“I’m not gay.”

Buck isn’t quite sure he was meant to hear that from how quietly Eddie whispers it, like he’s trying to remind himself, but it isn’t quite sure he’s getting it. Buck can see the doubt on his face, can read the hesitation in his body language. He can see every wheel turning in Eddie’s head like he’s mulling over every thought and feeling he might’ve had about Buck since they’ve met. 

He sniffs, “I’m not gay, Buck.” Okay, that one he was definitely supposed to hear. He continues, “But...you kissed me.”

“I know, and I’m–I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” Buck pleads, trying to convey how sorry he really was.

Eddie slams his bottle down, leveling him with a glare, “But you did! You kissed me, and now all I can think about every time I look at you is that fucking kiss, Buck!”

His eyes widen, mouth opening, as he tries to digest what exactly Eddie is trying to say. What exactly he means by any of what he just said.

“What are you trying to say, Eddie?”

Eddie bites his lip, sucking it into his mouth as he stares at Buck. He’s just staring, not giving away any more than he wants to which, at the moment, is pissing Buck off. 

“Eds, say anything, anything at all.”

He swallows, “I can’t do this, Buck. I have more to think about here than myself. There’s Chris and, and my family.”

Buck nods, feeling uncomfortable and awkward, feeling rejected and dismissed. He doesn’t want to sit at this table anymore. He doesn’t want to explain everything to Eddie anymore. He didn’t even want to lead with the kiss. Eddie wanted that. Buck wanted to talk about the tsunami and Chris. He didn’t have a ploy to share his romantic feelings for him so suddenly.

But he did. 

“I feel like I should go,” Buck states, already standing and tossing his beer in the garbage. 

Eddie sighs, “Wait, Buck, hold on–”

“No, I don’t really want to wait, Eddie. I didn’t even want to talk about…” He hangs his head, sighing heavily. Finally he levels the other man with a gaze, a small smile on his lips that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “I wanted to tell you about my nightmares, and how guilty I still am about Christopher. I wanted to explain that I’m working on these things, so I can come back around and be here like before. I didn’t want to share,” Buck gestures between them, “ _this_ with you yet because I don’t even know what I fucking feel, Eddie.”

“Buck, please…”

He sighs, slipping his shoes on at the door, “I’m tired of this Eddie. I’m tired of keeping part of myself from you because you think I’m so exhausting!”

Eddie scowls, crossing his arms defensively across his chest, “I don’t think you’re–Fuck.” He growls, “The grocery store.”

“You don’t even remember saying it, Eddie, but I haven’t been able to forget it.”

Without looking back, Buck leaves. He leaves his pride and his regret at the door along with a little piece of his heart that’s begging him to come back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I promise next chapter Buck will be happier.


	10. i can feel you in the night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> so fucking worth it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, here's the new update. Let me just start by saying it took me a while to write this because this is not originally how chapter ten was going to go. This is a very different turn than what I'd written at first. I had two thousand words, and it just didn't seem...right? That being said I hope you enjoy this update because it might be one of my favorites, and that's all because of the rewrite.
> 
> This chapter is also a little shorter than I'd like, but I didn't want to add anything else at the moment which you'll understand at the end. ;)
> 
> Once again I am on twitter annoying the shit out of everyone so please come chitty chat @ fernnette

His feet hit the asphalt with a thud that echoed throughout his entire body. He could feel it everywhere around him, throwing him around and knocking him off balance. He couldn’t keep his head straight the past couple of days after leaving Eddie on his front porch. He’d done what was best for him, what he needed at the end of the day, but sometimes doing what’s best isn’t easy. Sometimes it fucking hurts, and Buck’s chest had begun to hurt in an entirely new way. A pit had settled deep in his belly that made him feel a little nauseous and tingly.

Buck was so disoriented afterwards that he immediately called Frank’s office to try to move up his appointment again even though he’d seen him a few days ago. Buck had felt like he needed reassurance that he’d done the right thing, that even though Eddie looked utterly crushed as he left, he did what was best in the situation. He needed that validation.

But he knew what Frank would say. He would say that he was the only one who could validate himself, that Buck’s own feelings should matter the most to him. He needed to take a breath and stop reacting. He knew he shouldn’t have gone over to Eddie’s like that. He knew he should’ve listened to Frank because it was honestly one of the worst moments for him, and he couldn’t stop the rewatch party going on in his mind. He just kept replaying his embarrassment every second, driving him insane. 

He’d always thought that if he wasn’t with the department he wasn’t doing his part. He’d always told himself that Evan Buckley was nothing without the uniform, that he couldn’t do anything else because he made the decision to commit to this job. He chose this life. He doesn’t get to step out now.

But lately he’d started to feel like maybe Buck didn’t choose this. It chose him—as cliche as it sounds.

He’s tried so hard not to pick himself apart. He knows how fucked up he is, how crazy his life has gotten. Buck hasn’t figured out how to put himself first; he doesn’t know anything except all of the pain his stress and guilt is causing him, and it’s easier for him to push everything deep down, squishing it uncomfortably, to help someone else. That’s one of the many things Frank has gotten right: Buck can’t escape the primal urge he has to help others.

That’s why when he feels that sudden knot of unease unfurl itself in his stomach he stops running. Like he can sense something dangerous, something uncomfortable. Buck immediately tucked his headphones in the front of his shirt, slowly doing a three-sixty spin, trying to spy something, anything in the dark night, but unable to pick anything out of the dark. 

He could feel it though, a little sliver of something that sent a shiver down his spine and a frisson of nerves throughout him. It’s a feeling he hasn’t felt since he’s been off work. It’s a feeling he only gets when they’re on their way to a call, and Buck knows without a doubt that this is the same feeling in his gut. 

And Buck always trusts his gut.

Just as he’s to start back down the small path outside of the playground fence, he hears it, a whine followed by a soft groan inside the play area. That’s all it takes for him to make up his mind about the situation. Buck cautiously strides to the fence, looking around to make sure he isn’t missing anything in his surroundings. 

“Please… please.” He hears the soft rasp from the other side of the tall fencing. The playground was closed so he couldn’t just stroll in and take a look around. Instead he improvised, grabbing his phone and turning the flashlight on, peering through the slots in the chain link. 

“Is anybody there? Can you hear me?” He called out, slowly scanning as much of the area as he could with his limited light source.

“Please, help me.” The woman pleaded, and he swung his flashlight toward the sound, immediately spying her slumped form on one of the pieces of equipment. 

He doesn’t think. Buck’s never been good at thinking before he acts; ask anyone. He hollers out, “I see you! I’m coming. I’m coming!” Then he starts over the fence, forcing himself up several slots while trying to carefully maneuver the sharp wire at the top of the fencing. He won’t be much help if he’s bleeding out from a small scratch, will he?

As soon as his feet hit the grass, he’s racing toward her, flashlight scanning around the rest of the playground wildly just in case.

She’s breathing raggedly, holding her side tightly, “He left… He’s gone.”

“You’re bleeding,” Buck says, kneeling beside her to shrug his hoodie off. “Let me take a look.”

She nods, wincing slightly as Buck slowly lifts her hands away from her abdomen, trying to keep his face together at the sight of the wounds there. She can see it. She can feel it. Buck’s facial cues aren’t telling her anything she doesn’t already know.

“My name is Buck, okay? I’m going to help you. Here,” Buck presses his hoodie against her stomach, covering the wounds, and looks at her face, “hold this. We need to keep pressure on it, okay?”

“Okay…” Her voice is soft and somehow frantic, “Do you know what you’re doing?” She winces, swallowing harshly.

Buck pulls out his phone, opting to ignore her question. He wasn’t sure how to answer that right now. Of course he knew what he was doing. He just didn’t know what he was doing in a more “big picture” sense. Did it still count if he was on leave? Did all of his knowledge and intuition fly out of the window if he wasn’t actually working right now? It couldn’t have, right? If he didn’t have that all-consuming instinct, he wouldn’t have stopped. He wouldn’t have found her. He wouldn't have saved all of those people in the tsunami or that lady on Halloween. 

He didn’t need the job to define his character. He didn’t need the title to tell him he was able to help people. Whether he worked with the department or not, this kind of service and honor, this sense of duty, was instilled in his bones. It was engraved in the deepest parts of him. It was unbreakable, and it couldn’t be run off by a few accidents. 

No, Evan Buckley didn’t lose a part of himself just because he’d had a few bad goes. He didn’t lose a part of himself because some desk riding dick told him he was a liability. No one could take that away from Buck. He was born to do this in any capacity. He didn’t need anyone to commend him. This whole time he's convinced himself that he needed to fight the pain, fight the guilt, fight the failure, but Frank was slowly showing him that he needed to embrace the pain, let go of the guilt and the past, and learn from his failures. He couldn’t erase his past. He couldn’t change anything, but he could forgive himself for disappointing everyone. He could forgive himself for not being enough at the time. He could forgive himself for passively letting all this time pass him by. 

Buck needed these small victories. He needed these small moments that reminded him of the reason he was even here. At the end of the day Buck knew who he was at his core. He knew better than anyone. So he called the police. He helped keep pressure on her wounds. He helped keep her awake. 

He helped.

And when the first responders rolled up, running over to him as he waved his flashlight in the air, he’d never felt as confident and sure of himself. He knew without a doubt as the paramedics took over, leaving him to be questioned by the police, that he was back. Evan Buckley was back full force, ready to conquer the fucking world.

“Thank you,” she turned her head toward him, looking at him as he walked beside her gurney toward the ambulance. She swallowed, a stream of tears falling down her cheeks, “Thank you so much, Buck.”

And that’s all Buck needed to hear. Hell, he didn’t even need to hear it to feel so wholly validated in himself. It helped. God, it felt so nice to feel so useful and appreciated, but he didn’t need it. He was more sure of himself than he’d ever been.

Evan Buckley was a firefighter, and it was about damn time he started doing what he did best.

//////

“I’m confused.”

Buck reaches for Maddie’s empty wine glass, carefully refilling it while raising an eyebrow at her in question. She’s propped against the counter, hip cocked in a way that’s a sure sign she’s about to get some kind of attitude with him. 

He sighs, “What? What is confusing?”

“You,” she responds immediately, “Why were you out so late?”

He was expecting this honestly. He’d known from the start of the day after he received messages from Chim and Hen after they’d apparently heard from Athena about the situation. Athena had taken the time to call him approximately an hour after he got back to his place. He’d just taken a shower and was worming his way into the bed for a couple hours of sleep finally when his cell started ringing and chirping nonstop. Apparently it was a big deal to everyone that Buck was by himself in the middle of the night. Buck was confused since he was pretty sure he could hold his own against most. 

But at Maddie’s question he still feels himself flush, embarrassed by his nonchalant behavior of going out like he’d been doing. He wipes his hands on his jeans then takes a healthy swig from his bottle. It’s not a big deal that he was out. He knows that, so he’s not sure why he’s so nervous, hesitating to tell the truth.

“I like to go for a run sometime,” he says, turning to finish putting away the leftovers. 

“Does that mean you’re still...not sleeping?” She asks softly, so softly that Buck stops what he’s doing, turning toward her to really look at her.    
  


He steps forward, pulling her into a hug that takes her by surprise for a moment before she’s leaning into him, “I’m okay. I...I actually mean it this time. I’m not one hundred percent yet, but I’m getting there, Mads.”

She pats his back soothingly, like she’s the one who initiated the hug to begin with. When she pulls away, she drops her hands onto Buck’s shoulders, squeezing gently, “I’m always here for you, Evan. No matter what.”

“I know. I actually wanted to talk to you about something.” He could feel his face heat as he said it, and he had to take a step back for a moment to gather his bearings and decide what exactly he was going to say.

She takes a sip of wine, leaning her arms against the island, “Okay, I’m listening.”

“I think...I think I might like—” he paused, closing his eyes and throwing his head back. He swallowed, taking another breath, “Wow, this is hard.”

“It’s okay, Buck. You don’t have to say anything.”

Buck shakes his head, “I do. I need to say it.”

“Why?” Maddie questions, standing tall again to cross her arms over her chest, “Why do you need to say it right now?”

“Because I need it to be real. I haven’t said it out loud, and I need to say it so it’s real.” Buck ignores the crack in his voice, the raw edge of vulnerability he’s feeling that’s threatening to expose him. He can feel it bubbling out of him, begging to be acknowledged by someone.

Maddie nods, “Then say it, Buck.”

He inhales, meeting her eyes, “I’m—I’m pretty sure I’m...gay.” He drops his head, hanging limply between his tensed arms he’s using to brace himself on the island. He’s waiting for Maddie to gasp, or even show a little disappointment, but it never comes. 

He tilts his head back up to hers. She’s nodding almost mechanically then she spins on her heels, opening the high shelf where Buck keeps all of his hard liquor. She immediately spies the unopened bottle of whiskey towards the back and grabs it along with two glasses. 

Buck raises a single brow at her in question to which she just shrugs, “This felt like “something stronger” kind of moment we were having.”

“I guess you’re right,” Buck chuckles.

//////

By the time Maddie leaves she’s too far gone to drive so Chim has to come get her. Buck isn’t terribly drunk since he stopped several shots before Maddie. The girl couldn’t be stopped, but the more intoxicated she got, the more beneficial her information became, so like the worst brother on the planet, he let her keep drinking.

Maddie helped him navigate the territory of defining exactly what his sexuality was, or putting a label on it if you would, which seemed important to Buck right now. He needed to be able to define whatever he was feeling, and while he didn’t have a specific word for it yet, Maddie felt almost one hundred percent positive he wasn’t gay for the sole reason that he’s been very much attracted to women for twenty-eight years of his life. She said it was possible, but not likely in his case which after actually thinking about, he agreed with. He’s always been very much into women, so that means he’s not gay.

And while that revelation should’ve made him feel a bit of relief, it only confused him a little more. He knew all the terms and everything in between, but suddenly the thought of not being this or that, black or white, straight or gay, made Buck anxious, like his entire body was crawling and overwhelmed at the revelation. 

He wasn’t thinking clearly, and the knock on his door should’ve startled him. He should’ve been able to get out of his head for a few minutes. Just long enough to bring him back to the real world to look through a damn peep hole, but he wasn’t able to come to his senses until he was swinging his door open.

“Hey.”

Buck stood frozen for a moment, frozen in place as he stared at Eddie’s slumped form leaning against the door frame. His jacket was slung over his arm haphazardly and the top two buttons of his shirt were undone.

“What are you doing here, Eddie?”

He pushes off the frame, striding into Buck’s home like he owns the place which has never been a problem until now since Buck is trying to distance himself.

“Eddie…why are you here?” Buck pushes, staying beside the open door in hopes that he can remain strong in his efforts to keep a certain amount of distance between the two. Because that’s what Buck needed. He needed time to get back to a place where he felt like he could be around Eddie again.

Eddie’s pacing around the kitchen, hands stuffed deep into his pockets. Buck watches the scowl on his face get deeper and deeper as he thinks. He finally stops, placing both hands on the counter, locking his arms while he leans forward, breathing deeply. Finally he exhales, finding Buck’s eyes across the kitchen, “I’m so fucking sorry.”

That’s somehow not what Buck was anticipating. He wasn’t quite sure what he thought Eddie would say, but it sure as hell wasn’t that. Before he can second guess himself, Buck shuts the door, coming to stand across the kitchen from him. 

He shakes his head a couple times, crossing his arms, “It’s fine. I...It’s okay, Eddie.”

“No, it’s not. I’m—I don’t even know why I said that, Buck. I was just frustrated because you weren’t around!” Eddie’s voice was rising, and if Buck wasn’t familiar with him, he’d think he was yelling at him, but fortunately Buck knew Eddie well enough to know this was just how he needed to get everything out.

Buck sniffs, “It’s okay. You were right. I didn’t think about you or Chris when I started the whole lawsuit mess.”

“You shouldn’t have to think of us before you do anything, Buck. I don’t want my family holding you back…”

“Holding me back? Eddie, come on.”

He shakes his head, “I should’ve been there for you. I know what it’s like to fight alone, and I left you alone. I called you exhausting in the middle of a grocery store for god's sake!”

Buck shakes his head, trying to get past the sudden lump of emotion in his throat. He had so much he wanted to say. He has had too much on his mind that is fighting and clawing its way up his throat, begging to be freed. He swallows, “I—I don’t know what to say to make this better.”

Eddie lets out a harsh laugh, bringing his hands to the back of his head, looking at the ceiling as he breathes raggedly. He finds Buck’s eyes, narrowing them in question, “Do you hear yourself right now? This isn’t something  _ you _ fix, Evan! I fucked up!”

“And it’s okay. Everybody makes mistakes, man.” Buck tries to deescalate the situation, stepping towards him like he might blow up any moment, but it’s his job to diffuse him.

“Why do you have to—” Eddie pauses, scrubbing a hand over his face, “Why do you do this to me?”

“What? What am I doing?” Buck asks, brow furrowing and nose scrunched in confusion.

He takes a step toward Buck, gritting his teeth, “Why are you making me  _ feel _ this?”

Buck shakes his head, not understanding what he’s talking about. He wants to know why Eddie looks so torn, so utterly lost that he’s in Buck’s kitchen at one in the morning talking about all the things that have apparently been plaguing him for the past couple of days.

“I went out tonight...with that girl,” Eddie says, eyes staring into Buck’s.

Buck scowls, “Bunita? You called her?”

“Yeah, and I’m sure she had an awful time.”

“Why do you say that? What do you mean?” Buck asks, stepping closer without really realizing what he’s doing.

“I couldn’t stop talking about you. The whole fucking time.” Eddie calmly, much calmer than Buck expected from him, explains. He continues, voice slowly rising, “I couldn’t stop talking about you! I couldn’t stop thinking about you!” He laughs, raspy and humorless, “And when she kissed me, I couldn’t stop seeing you when I closed my eyes!”

Buck opened his mouth, letting it hang a little, as he tried to gather his thoughts. He was flustered, completely taken by surprise by Eddie’s honesty. He chews his bottom lip, apologizing halfheartedly, “I’m sorry…”

“God, Buck, stop apologizing. Stop!”

“I don’t know what you want from me then, Eddie. Tell me what I need to do to fix this, and I’ll do it.”

Buck watches as he clenches and unclenches his fists at his sides, eyes closed as he inhales deeply. He’s never seen Eddie so out of control. Between the two of them Buck was the one that struggled with keeping it together. Not Eddie. 

“I’m not gay, Buck.”

Buck nods, turning back toward the door, “You’ve said that already, Eddie. Say something new, or get out.”

“I don’t know how to do this,” he growls, coming to stand closer to Buck. He leaves a generous amount of space between them, more distance than he normally would before everything became weird and uncomfortable.

Buck sighs, ready to be done for the night. He couldn’t think straight, and he was ridiculously tired. He wanted to sleep while he thought he’d be able to. “There’s no  _ this _ to figure out, Eddie.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re really going to try to tell me that… Wow,” Eddie grits out, nodding his head as he looks into the hallway outside of Buck’s door. Buck’s confident he’ll leave without another word. He’s sure Eddie won’t keep pushing.

Until he’s stepping into Buck’s personal space, grabbing his face in his large hands.

Eddie’s lips crash against Buck’s roughly, and he feels his hands clutching Eddie’s biceps tightly, squeezing when he continues kissing him like he’s trying to figure him out, trying to find the answers to all of the confusing questions he’s had. Buck can’t promise he’ll find what he’s looking for in him, but he doesn’t want it to end. He wants everything to keep going.

Buck revels in the feel of his lips, soft and pliant, beneath his as he lets Eddie guide the kiss. He lets Eddie have this. He lets him have the control in this moment. He lets him slide a hand around to cup the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

Buck could taste the beer on his lips, could feel the warmth radiating from his body, could hear the little sounds coming from his throat. Buck could feel it all. He could surround himself in it. The gentle way Eddie’s lips were now moving against his, heated and exploratory, like he was suddenly caught up in the moment. Like he couldn’t stop himself from biting Buck’s bottom lip, sucking it gently before letting go. Like he couldn’t stop the groan escaping from his lips when Buck snaked his hand into his hair, pulling gently, experimenting.

Then it was over. 

Eddie was jerking away like he’d been burned, breathing heavily and touching his lips like he couldn’t believe what he’d just done. If Buck was honest, he couldn’t believe it either. Never in a million years did he think Eddie would ever kiss him. Never. 

Buck’s in shock, frozen in place as his chest heaves, fighting for air even after he’s calmed himself down. He wants nothing more than to Eddie back in, wanting to feel him again, because now that Buck’s had a taste, he wants more. If he wasn’t sure of his attraction before, he’s one hundred percent sure he wanted Eddie, wanted him a way that wasn’t friendly.

“I should go,” Eddie mumbles. He clears his throat, speaking a little louder this time, “I need to leave.”

“Or you could not…” Buck says, taking a tentative step toward him, “Go, I mean. You could stay, and we could...talk.”

Eddie’s shaking his head, backing away quickly until he’s outside of Buck’s loft. Buck could read it on his face. He could see just how scared he was, how much he needed space. It was what Buck had needed. It was the reason Buck had run away. Because sometimes you need room to process, to come to terms with the things happening around you.

Buck’s been dealing and processing in his own little bubble for days now. He’s had time to understand some of his feelings, but Eddie… He blindsided him, forced him to question a part of himself that he wasn’t ready to get to know. Eddie wasn’t forthcoming with his feelings. He wasn’t like Buck, who wore his heart on his sleeve just waiting for someone to hurt him. Eddie was different. He was guarded and hesitant, angry and confused. Buck recognized every emotion settling on his face, his shoulders, weighing him down until he looked ready to fight. 

Because Buck cared about him, cared about his feelings and his well-being, he could let him go. Buck could let him tuck his tail and run until he understood. 

“Okay. It’s okay. I’ll see you...another time?” Buck asks, hand clutching the door until his knuckles were white.

Eddie swallows, running a hand over his jaw, “Yeah, I’ll call—I’ll be in touch or something.”

Buck watched as he walked away, briskly walking to the elevators, never looking back at Buck. It didn’t hurt the way it did last time. This didn’t crush him the way he thought it would. It almost made Buck feel lighter, like even though Eddie was yelling and thoroughly confused, it was still beneficial. 

It was Buck’s turn to wait, to give space, to understand even though he wanted answers to various questions now, and he was content to wait for Eddie. He was content to see what happened because Buck knew the truth.

Nothing in life worth having comes easy, and Eddie was worth it. So fucking worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How are we feeling, guys? How are you holding up because I wrote it, and I'm dying!!!


	11. a distant lullaby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> things are actually good?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to put a quick little something in here that basically says while this is close to canon, it's not. I kept up until the lawsuit, but I'm slowly incorporating certain things back into the plot that happened on the show. It's just not in the same timeline...if that makes sense? Lol
> 
> This chappie took me so long to write because I had no where to go, but also a million places I wanted to take it? Fortunately it's done, and I hope you love it! 
> 
> Also I'm trying to get back to all your comments. I love reading them, and I appreciate every single one of them. Your kind words and love for this garbage is what spurs me to keep going! <3
> 
> I am still twittering @ fernnette so please come follow me for annoying content or dont...that's your business bby

“Evan, how have you been? Things were a little hairy the last time we talked.” 

Buck, who couldn’t help but to clam up every time Frank asked this simple question at the start of every session, decided to shrug as if he wasn’t having a full fledged meltdown at his previous appointment. He rubs his hands together in front of him, scrunching his nose, as he responds, “Things are actually good?”

Frank’s grin twitches, “You sound a little unsure. If things are good, then that means we’re making progress.”

“I guess it just feels like…” he pauses, searching for the right words, “like it’s been too easy. This is only my fifth visit. It feels like things are changing overnight.”

Franks nods understandingly, “I’ll admit you’ve been progressing remarkably well, Evan. I credit a lot of that to your willingness to be open and honest.” Frank clicks his tongue, “Unfortunately I also have to give some credit to Bobby even if he was a little backwards in his methods. This time off has been very beneficial for your mental health.”

Buck nods, bringing his hand up to rub the back of his neck, begrudgingly admitting, “If what he said about the department is true, then yeah, my focus was shit. I should’ve asked for time off.” He swallows, one side of his lips lifting slightly, “I was scared… Didn’t want to lose my job after I just got reinstated.”

“Rightfully so. I don’t blame you for being scared.” Frank says. “And by that I mean, you have every right to be scared in all aspects of your life. You’ve been through so many traumatic events, Evan, and you’re coping with everything remarkably well after a short time.”

Buck scrunches his nose, brows furrowing as he thinks back to all the times in the past few months he’s been back at work that his fragile mental state has gotten him into sticky situations. He thought about the different calls they’d been called to that he had to work to keep his cool at certain points—like one of his first calls back where a small child was drowning. Certain things hit Buck at different times. He didn’t have a fear of water, but occasionally, not often, the thought of submerging his head under the shower stream, or getting caught in the tail end of a sprinkler, made his insides tighten uncomfortably. It made him breathe heavier, faster. He had to consciously make an effort to stay focused. 

“I have moments where things...trigger me. Sometimes—most of the time actually...it doesn’t bother me until it just  _ does _ , you know?” Buck manages to explain halfheartedly, gesturing with his hands oddly like that’ll make the words come to him. 

Frank understands though. He always does. It’s the one thing Buck can always count on in these sessions, that no matter how shitty and absolutely horrendous his explanation is, Frank will magically understand somehow. Almost like it’s his job or something. 

“Or it’s just not as...explosive every time? Maybe you’re at the point where you’re learning to work through it before it spins out of control.”

“We had a call a few weeks ago that really wrecked me.” Buck starts, sniffing and casting his eyes to the side to stare out the window, “I was convinced Chris was calling out to me in the house.”

Frank tilts his head, “This call was in your file.” He leans over to grab the thick folder from the little table off to his side. He flips it open, searching around until he finds what he’s looking for, “Yes… You charged back inside a burning building after being instructed not to. Captain Nash was certainly concerned after that call. He’s added a note here questioning your ability to do this job after the tsunami.”

“I can’t really blame the guy I guess,” Buck says even though he can feel his heart thunder in his chest, beating and knocking everything around until he recognizes the swell of anger cresting inside of him.

He’s not necessarily angry with Bobby. He knows that at the end of the day this is his job. Buck can keep that separate from all the shit spiraling out of control for him right now. He’s more so angry with himself that it took so long for him to grow some fucking balls and reach out for help. He’s angry at himself for thinking he could power through work thinking everything would resolve itself. Life wasn’t that forgiving.

Frank clasps his hands in his lap, “What’s bothering you, Evan? You seem angry today.” He pauses, “That’s an unusual emotion for you.”

“I’m not angry at the others… I’m angry at myself.” Buck confesses.

“What’s there to be angry about? What have you done?” 

Buck leans forward, sniffing when he rubs a hand over his jaw, “Why...Why did I wait so long to get help? Why did I wait until it was almost too late?”

Frank frowns, tilting his head, “Too late? Evan, you aren’t some ticking time bomb. It takes strength and courage to admit to yourself and your loved ones that you aren’t okay. There’s no shame in that.”

“I’m not ashamed...or maybe I am. I don’t know.” Buck huffs out a breath. “I just wish things would  _ stop _ getting so confusing in my head.”

“Let’s talk about all the confusion then, Evan. Tell me everything. I’m here to listen to you.” Frank reassures.

Buck inhales deeply, casting another glance out the window just as a strong gust of wind blows, knocking limbs against the window softly. If he were of sound mind, he’d advise Frank to get that taken care of before it breaks the glass on a big sweep, but he doesn’t. He thinks about all the things he wants to let loose, just spew a whole mess of word vomit all over Frank’s office.

He knows exactly where to start.

“I did exactly what you told me not to do.” Buck lets out an awkward little chuckle, “I thought I could talk to Eddie, explain everything without actually talking about the elephant in the room.”

“Didn’t go well?” Frank asks with a small twitch of his lips.

Buck shakes his head, “It wasn’t great, no.” He scrubs a hand over his face, sighing heavily. Buck wouldn’t say that the confrontation was for nothing since it did lead to Eddie’s impromptu visit. As if on cue Buck feels his cheeks heat, and he rubs his palms over his jeans before saying, “It did lead to a small breakthrough...with Eddie, I mean.”

Frank lifts a brow, “What kind of breakthrough?”

“Well, he...he kissed me.” Buck manages, eyes staring holes into the floor, then he’s feeling another small swell of anger, “He had to remind me once again that he’s not gay though.”

Frank smiles sadly, “From the sound of it, Evan, it sounds like he’s trying to convince himself. Not you.”

“Oh, I know. I just—I’m tired of hearing it.” Buck admits.

“Have you found a label for what you’re feeling?” Frank asks, redirecting the topic back to him, “Have you been able to find a certain level of acceptance?”

Buck nods, actually feeling eerily calm as he discusses it, “I guess. I know I’m...attracted to Eddie. I’ve accepted that. I just...I don’t want to put a label on—” Buck hesitates a moment then forces the words out, “my sexuality.”

Frank’s face is unreadable as he asks, “Why is that?”

“Pressure mainly. I don’t like this pressure to have all of my shit figured out.” Buck sighs, “I also recognize that I’m twenty-eight and am having feelings for another man for the first time in my life. Who says I won’t like something completely different next week?” Buck rushes out, feeling a slight stream of panic building as he thinks about being this confused ever again.

“There are actually a hefty number of people out there who refuse to label their sexuality as well. It’s not uncommon. I’m actually very proud that you’ve been able to come to this conclusion instead of slapping a label on it for the sake of others even though that makes you uncomfortable.” Frank commends him. 

Buck’s a little surprised but happy at the fact that Frank is praising him, “I’m not wrong?”

“Wrong? There’s no right or wrong answer when it comes to making choices for yourself. At the end of the day you have to do what’s best for you, Evan.” He smiles slightly, “And that’s what you did. You put yourself first.”

“Well, that’s kind of nice to hear.” 

Frank hits him with that sad little smile again, “That being said I want to touch on Eddie again.” 

“What about him?” Buck chews his lip.

“Eddie is just starting his journey. You’ve had a weekly therapy session and your sister to turn to during this extremely confusing time. Who does Eddie turn to when he needs advice?”

Buck’s stomach drops through his ass to the floor. He feels like such a dumb fuck at the moment. He feels so sick at how much he’s forced on Eddie in the past couple of weeks. His voice is small and raspy when he replies, “Me. He comes to me.”

Frank nods, “You are Eddie’s support system here, and it’s probably taking a toll on him that the issue he needs help with is you.”

“He’s such a closed off asshole sometimes. He wouldn’t reach out to his family or anyone else at the station.” Buck lets out a snort, “Man, I feel like shit.”

Frank nods, not trying to placate Buck at the moment, “You’ve earned a certain level of trust with him that he doesn’t have with anyone else.”

“How do I—what do I do to help him?” Buck asks, a desperate undertone in his voice.

“There’s not a lot you can do, Evan. This is something that Eddie needs to figure out for himself.” Frank shrugs. “He’ll find you when he’s ready.”

“What if he’s never ready? What if he never finds me?” 

“Patience. Waiting for someone you’re not sure will come is the ultimate show of love and support.” Frank answers.

Buck chooses to ignore the love part of that. He doesn’t want to dwell on the possibility of admitting something as huge as love when he can’t even tell Eddie he likes him yet. He doesn’t want to rush through all of this. It’s new and ever-changing. He knew the other day when he let Eddie leave that he was more than willing to wait for him because he knows Eddie. He knows what a good man he is. He knows that even if he’s waiting for months Eddie is worth every minute.

Buck nods, a determined look crossing his face, “I can wait then.”

“That’s progress, Evan. That’s what we’re looking for from these sessions.”

Buck cocks his head to the side, “All I needed was patience? This could’ve been avoided if I would’ve just had patience?”

Frank chuckles, “Well, no. Not being impulsive. It’s in your nature to just dive in feet first, like when you decided to talk to Eddie even though I advised against it.”

“Okay, and I’m sorry about that, Doc.”

“The point I’m trying to make is that you made a mistake. It led to a confrontation, but you didn’t let it consume you. You learned from the impulsive decision.”

Buck scrunches his nose, “I guess.”

“You’ll be happy to know,” Frank pauses, probably for dramatic effect, “I’ll be faxing a letter to your captain after our session. I think it’s time you went back to work, don’t you?”

Buck lights up, eyes wide and a huge grin splitting his in two, “Are you serious? Yes, I’m ready. Put me in coach.”

Frank laughs, checking the time on his watch, “We’re about out of time for the day, but I think this has been our best session yet.”

“I always feel a little...lighter after these things.” Buck confesses.

“That’s good. You should be proud of yourself, Evan.”

Proud? Buck couldn’t be sure if that’s how he felt. He didn’t think he was necessarily proud of himself for progressing. More like he felt accomplished. Like he was finally on his way to having a clearer field of vision, a clearer picture of what the future looked like for him.

//////

Buck wasn’t entirely comfortable with the idea of bringing a hoard of children to an ice cream shop, but he couldn’t really argue with the wide smile that lit up Kaley’s face when she recalled her plans to him. She looks like she could be one of the little kids with the way she talked animatedly about how much she loves ice cream. 

Buck kind of hated to admit that Kaley was growing on him in a weird sort of way. She was losing the constant flirtatious manner she seemed to put on for him. At the beginning it felt so annoyingly thick, like she was piling the seduction on...except when they had the play days. It was like she was completely different around the kids. Buck was no longer a person of interest, and he became a friend to her instead. 

He didn’t even notice at first, but somewhere between the third and fourth day of plays she had entered a state of pleasant friendship with him. She never crossed any lines anymore or made him feel uncomfortable in any way. He could tell that this was the real Kaley. This was the Kaley that he wanted to know.

Buck was man enough to admit he liked her this way. Friendly and kind.

He enjoyed having a friend that wasn’t a part of the fire department or the police force. He liked having someone outside of it all that helped to keep him grounded, humble and close to what mattered. The program had done more for him than he thought it would, and he had Frank to thank for that, for pushing him out of his comfort zone even when he didn’t like it.

“Do you want to go through the line with the boys first?” Kaley asks from his side, grinning at the menu hanging from the ceiling behind the counter.

He chuckles, “Yeah. Are you going to be okay here? You look like you might go into a sugar coma from the fumes alone.”

“I’ll have you know I am a perfectly capable adult...but please keep an eye on me, so I don’t get too crazy.” She ends with a laugh and a wink. She grabs the four girls over to the side of the shop, making sure they’re settled in their respective seats before talking animatedly over the choices they have in front of them.

Buck leads the boys through the line which he didn’t realize would be such a fucking task. What he thought would be a five minute ordeal with the three boys quickly turned into a fifteen minute negotiation between them, Buck, and the employee. Unfortunately he didn’t come out on top, giving in too quickly to the boys demands for triple scoops instead of the one scoop Kaley told them they were allowed to get. 

When they made their way over to the table, she quirked a brow at him, her face clearly portraying how much of a pushover she thinks he is. Buck can’t fault her for that though since he started volunteering he’d learned just how easily he caved to little baby faces. It was a weakness. Kids, man.

Once everyone is seated at their tables, Kaley offers him a paper bowl filled with delicious ice cream and all kinds of toppings that he couldn’t wait to scarf down. Kaley sat in the seat across from him, wiping Sam’s chin with a napkin, while doing a quick check of all the other kids.

She stuffs a gummy bear in her mouth before saying, “So when are you going back to work?”

Buck had told Kaley about the going-ons in his career at their last get together when she expressed how pleased she was that his schedule has not interfered in their day of plays yet. He didn’t spill everything, but he found himself telling her far more than he intended to.

“Hopefully next week.” 

She smiles, genuine and friendly, “That’s great, Buck. Are you ready?”

He snorts, “Yeah, I can’t wait to be back. I’m actually a little...nervous if I’m honest.” 

“That’s understandable. You’ve been off a lot longer than you originally thought, right?” She asks, stuffing a huge bite of ice cream and crushed oreos into her mouth in the most unladylike way.

He finds himself grinning, mimicking her large bite as he answers her, “It was kind of up in the air about when I’d be able to come back. The time off has been good though for...other reasons.”

She narrows her eyes at him, “Other reasons?”

“Yeah, I’ve been...confused lately.” He admits, not really sure how to put it into words.

She looks into her bowl, frowning a little, “I didn’t mean to… We don’t have to talk about it.”

“Oh. Oh, no. It’s not… I’m not really sure how to explain it.” Buck manages. He sighs, “I’ve been having...feelings...for my best friend.”

Kaley smiles, “Romantical feelings?”

“I don’t think that’s a word.”

“Sure, it is. Stop avoiding,” she replies teasingly.

He sighs, “Yes, my feelings are  _ romantical _ for him.”

Her grin stretches wider, “See? It’s a word. Sam, honey, the spoon goes in your mouth.” 

Buck watches as Kaley picks up Sam’s spoon from the table, opting to grab her another one from the front counter since Sam had effectively gotten her spoon so sticky and nasty that it was just not good. When she returns, she’s gazing at him rather curiously.

“Is that why you’ve been confused? You like your friend?” Kaley asks.

Buck scrunches his nose again, not really understanding Kaley’s nonchalant reaction to Buck’s confession. It’s the first time he’s told someone other than Maddie that he’s attracted to another man, and she didn’t even bat an eye at the fact that he’s, well, a he. No, she assumed the issue was the fact that he’s Buck’s friend, and if he’s being honest, he wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

He wanted to feel happy and relieved now that he’d told someone else his little secret, but it felt...anticlimactic. He thought there’d be some kind of fanfare or a pleased little “I’m so proud of you for being open” speech, but Kaley didn’t say any of that. She treated the whole ordeal like it didn’t matter that Eddie was male, and that did make a small little twinge of happiness unfurl in his chest. 

“Um, actually.” Buck laughs a little, an awkward little exhale of sorts, “the confusion stems from the fact that—well, the friend thing, best friend if I’m being honest—but also because he’s, well, a man.”

Kaley smiles softly at him, scooping another gummy bear into her mouth, “Your first gay experience?”

“Ha, yeah. You could say that.” Buck croaks.

“My first experience was with Katie Russo my senior year of high school.” Kaley says, face flushing as she looks over at the kids chatting away around them in their own little paradise. She sighs, “Katie was captain of the volleyball team, and I know you’ve seen those little uniforms.” She narrows her eyes at him accusingly while giggling.

“I know what the uniform looks like. I remember well.”

Kaley nods, “Yeah, well, she was my first “oh, shit” moment. I went to every volleyball game just to see her prance around in those little shorts. When I figured out that the little...tingle I felt was actually from attraction rather than respect for her skill, which I totally had, well, I had my own little come to Jesus moment.”

Buck can feel his eyes widen not only at the thought of the women’s volleyball uniform, but also from how easily Kaley was willing to share her own “oh, shit” moment as she so cleverly dubbed it.

“So, you like…” he casts a glance at Sam and the little girl beside him talking about the ice cream before he leans in to whisper, “girls?”

Kaley’s answering laugh makes Buck grin slightly, “I like whatever makes me happy.” She lets her shoulders drop in a shrug.

“Whatever makes you happy? You mean you like men and women?” Buck asks, his brow dipping in confusion.

Kaley inhales slowly, mulling over her response, “I like the person, male or female, who genuinely cares for me. I want to be with the person that loves me the way I am, flaws and all.”

“I’m still confused. So, you like both?” Buck presses again.

She smiles, a little giggle escaping, “Short answer, yes. Longer answer… Buck, we all want our own piece of happiness. I want that with someone who’s as happy with me as I am with them, someone who’s scared to lose me, someone who wants to show me to the world as theirs. I want my heart to race, and my skin to tingle. I want someone to be silly with, to share an ugly, obnoxious laugh with, and maybe even an ugly cry when it’s called for.”

Buck digests every word Kaley says, really letting it sink into him as he imagines his own future and what it might look like. His mind immediately conjures an image of Eddie, smiling at Chris as they do their exercises together in the mornings. He sees the three of them sitting at the kitchen table sharing a laugh over the crazy call they might’ve had, or Chris’s crazy school shenanigans. Either way Buck sees Eddie. Over and over again, he sees Eddie and Chris.

He clears his throat, “Thanks...for sharing all that with me. You didn’t have to, but I’m—I’m glad you did.”

“I can recognize a headcase similar to my own every now and then.” She smirks, sending a wink his way.

  
  


//////

Buck feels a certain air of peace settle over him as he walks into the station. The familiar smells wafting into his personal space as he pauses in the entrance for a moment. He lets himself calm, lets the emotions and high stress he’s felt over the past two weeks drift off of him. He doesn't want to bring all of the unnecessary baggage he’s feeling hang over him this time around.

That’s where he messed up last time, after the lawsuit. He let himself think he was ready to be back because he’d fought so desperately for it. He thought that if he didn’t come back he wouldn’t be able to come back at all. Buck had to learn patience, which he was still trying to grasp, but dammit, he was trying. He was trying to constantly be aware of how certain things made him feel, so he could make damn sure he never got as bad off as he’s been lately.

He struggles, especially since he was still having the occasional nightmare. Last night, for example, he woke up drenched in sweat, desperately heaving air into his body after feeling like he was drowning. He’d curled into a ball and cried for a few moments; something he was a little ashamed of if he’s honest. He ran until his legs almost gave out. He ran past the park where he’d helped that lady. He ran past the playground he’d played with Kaley and the kids at. He ran past the station, lit up as the night shift worked their shift. He just ran, even if he felt better halfway through the sprint. He just kept going.

He thought about reaching out to Eddie, just to let him know he’d be coming by the station, but ultimately he decided against it, too much of a coward and a glutton for punishment to let him know. He didn’t want to see Eddie. Well, he did, but he wanted to give Eddie the space he clearly needed. He believed him when he said he’d call him. On the other hand though he just wanted to see him. He just wanted a little peek at him to see how he’s doing, to see if he's holding it together any better than Buck did.

“Look who it is!” Chim hollers out, breaking Buck out of his daze he’d been in, clapping him on the back in a big hug. “You coming back to us, or what?”

Buck grins, “That’s the plan. Gotta talk to Bobby first.”

“If you ask me, it’s been a little depressing without you around.” 

Hen steps around the engine, grinning ear to ear at Buck, “Not that I’m in the business of agreeing with Chim, but he’s right.” She gives Buck the same treatment, hugging him tightly.

“I’m sure that’s not true.” Buck placates.

Hen and Chim share a look. Hen breaks eye contact, snorting, “Trust us. We’re ready to have you back.”

“Wow, did you miss me that much? I feel kind of...touched.” Buck teases, following them up the stairs toward the kitchen. 

He hesitates at the top of the stairs. Eddie’s leaning against the counter, water bottle in his hands, as he chats with Lena Bosko quietly. Buck isn’t surprised to see her. He knew Cap would have to bring someone else in until Buck returned. He wasn’t as decimated by it this time around. No, what really got him was Eddie.

Eddie casually standing in all of his glory, face a little sooty like maybe they’d just returned from a call. He was smiling at her as he talked, but Buck could tell it wasn’t genuine by the way it didn’t reach his eyes. There was no little crinkle on the corners of his eyes. Instead there was a cut above his eyebrow. Small and seemingly fresh, but visible to Buck from across the room. 

He forced his feet closer, scanning his eyes over Eddie’s face, noting the bruise under his jaw and the busted lip he was sporting. Buck wanted to interrogate him immediately. He felt a swell of anger in him, rising faster than he could stop it. He wanted to beat some sense into him, but it looked like someone already did that for him. 

“Look who we found lurking,” Hen announces, and Eddie turns, face falling as soon as his gaze lands on Buck. The bottle in his hands slips a fraction in his grip before he’s calmly regaining his composure, righting himself before anyone else would notice. Except Buck. Buck knew Eddie like the back of his hand. He couldn’t keep anything from him.

Buck pastes a small smile on his face, “Hey, I wasn’t lurking.”

“You were standing at the front of the building with your eyes closed, Buck.” Chim deadpans.

“That’s not lurking. I was just...feeling nostalgic.”

Hen laughs, “We all feel that way sometimes, Buck.”

“What’re you doing here?” Eddie asks, voice almost coming out in a rough grunt. His tone is clear though, that he’s not ready to see Buck. 

“Eddie…” Chim starts.

Buck interrupts, “I, uh, just needed to talk to Bobby. Frank cleared me to come back.”

Buck sees the momentary softening of his face as he digests what that means for Buck. He catalogs the way his eyes crinkle slightly, the way his mouth twitches like he wants to smile. Buck recognizes it for what it is. Eddie’s happy for him even if he feels like there’s an ever-widening chasm between them. 

He nods, “That’s good. Happy for you, man.” 

Buck knows that’s as good as he’s going to get. He knows Eddie is as emotionally stunted as a loaf of bread, and as much as that should bother him, he takes it as a challenge. A task, a huge fucking endeavor, of figuring Eddie out piece by piece. The thought sends a rush through him, nerves making him nauseous.

“What, uh, happened to your face?” Buck asks, pointing in the general area of Eddie’s cuts and bruises. 

Eddie’s entire demeanor shifts at the question. Buck can see the way he slams the wall down between the two of them, effectively shutting Buck out. He sniffs, carelessly leaning back again, as he says, “Defending a damsel in distress. Not a big deal.”

Buck doesn’t want to think it’s a dig at him. He doesn’t want to think it’s some kind of ploy to hurt him, but he suddenly feels a little twinge of jealousy. Something ugly and wicked that makes him want to scowl and interrogate Eddie even further until they’re both blue in the face. He doesn’t though. He keeps that nasty part of him begging to be unleashed locked away...for now.

“Always gotta be the hero, Eds.” He tries to keep it light even though he wants to run his fingers over Eddie's face, feel out his skin for any other cuts or bumps he might have.

Eddie clicks his tongue, “You know me.” 

“Buck! You ready for that chat?” Bobby is calling out for him from the bottom of the stairs, and even though Buck wants...shit, he wants a lot. Even though he wants to word vomit all over the place right now in front of everyone, he doesn’t. He turns around, back tracking down the stairs to where Bobby’s waiting for him.

“You ready to get back on the job, kid?” Bobby asks, a heavy hand dropping to squeeze his shoulder.

Buck’s answering grin is genuine and eager. “Ready is an understatement, Bobby.”

He chuckles, “Glad to hear it.”

//////

Two days later he was practically bouncing around his loft, a little too enthusiastic about returning to work. He was overflowing with nervous energy, unable to keep still for even a moment. He was ready to be back at the station, at his second home. He was ready to prove that, once again, he could do his job as well, if not better, than anyone else the department brought in—yes, he’s talking about Lena.

He was mainly nervous about working a full shift with Eddie. Buck was always a little nervous lately about the potential of Eddie being everywhere. Anytime he phone dinged, or there was a knock on his door, he could feel his heart begin to knock viciously against his sternum, threatening to beat right out of his chest if he wasn’t careful.

He tries to focus on other things like getting all of his shit together for his first shift back at work in two weeks. He focuses on cleaning this weird spot on his stove that he’s never noticed. He focuses on dusting the cubbies of his entertainment center because he can’t remember when he fucking did that last. He just tries to focus on other things so the feelings he has that make him feel like he’s orbiting Eddie don’t consume him. 

He’s checking his phone for what feels like the fiftieth time when he hears a knock on his door. Buck’s a little embarrassed to admit just how fast he races across the small kitchen area, slipping on the slick floor and almost face planting right there in front of the door. He shakes his head, clearing everything out of his head and arranging his features until he feels like he’s at an acceptable level of impassiveness.

He opens the door slowly, trying to seem nonchalant and not at all like he almost wiped out two seconds ago.

He freezes. Totally unmoving as he stares at the figure filling his doorway. He’s so surprised he can’t keep himself together. He feels the unraveling happening far too late, so late he can’t possibly stop it.

“Abby?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...


	12. underneath the shattered sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> knowing is better than not

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY. I am back after too long. This chapter took me a while because everything I wrote felt choppy and like actual doodoo. I brought in a beta reader to help me along that might help on future chapters too, but who knows. So thanks Mystery__Spot for helping a sista out. 
> 
> That being said this is a short chapter. Like 2k which is significantly shorter than my usual. I call this a transition to the upcoming. Splitting it up like this is helping all of my creative juices flow a little better. Thank you for being understanding while I try to get my shit together.
> 
> Also edit: time doesn't exist here. This is my world, and sometimes it doesn't make sense, but if I'm not worried about it, neither should you. If I make a big deal about it, then it's important. If not, then...pfft
> 
> Like always I'm on twitter being an annoying shit and begging for attention @ fernnette

When Buck decided to move on from Abby almost two years ago, he couldn’t help the nagging feeling to leave behind a small crumb on the off chance that Abby came back from Europe wanting to rekindle their romance. It gave him hope in a stupid way that his fragile heart had needed at the time. Buck had held onto her for so long that he had struggled to separate himself in the beginning. Not in a weird way. He just couldn’t wrap his head around being without someone that was so important to him. How was he supposed focus? By some miracle, though, he managed. Buck learned how to adapt without the one person that managed to ground him during a time when he felt wholly confused.

Buck struggled on his own. He felt alone more often than not, and he could admit that he easily latched onto people who made him feel less lonely. It was a flaw, a dependency, that he loathed yet somehow couldn’t help. He had felt seen and loved by Abby. Sure, their relationship had been a struggle for him. He wanted easy and fun. He was used to passionate, uncomplicated trysts, and Abby couldn’t give that to him.

In some ways Buck was grateful for the stability and life lessons Abby provided him during their time together. He learned what it meant to truly value and care for someone other than himself, to care for someone who was too selfless in some ways. Loving Abby meant accepting everything that came with her, including her sick mother. Buck had wanted her to choose him though. Looking back, Buck knew without a doubt how fully committed he’d been to Abby even if her mother did tend to make things harder than they had to be. He couldn’t fault Abby for that. He could blame her for the way she left after the funeral. Buck wanted her to need him as much as he needed her, as much as he wanted her. 

Everyone had a little streak of sin in them, a little selfish hint of something that made you want something even if it hurt someone else. For Buck, he could admit he was the epitome of selfish. He wanted too much, and yet he somehow gave too much. He couldn’t find the balance between too little and too much. Abby made him feel closer to the little line of equilibrium.

Then she left, and Buck let her. It was the first time he could remember being completely selfless, putting someone’s happiness above his own. He did that for Abby because he could see the hurt and the unyielding pain that just wouldn’t go away no matter how hard he tried to console her. Buck felt helpless after her mother passed, and helplessness ranked high up with loneliness for him. 

So...yeah. He left behind a little notepad with his new address and his cell phone number just in case she’d deleted it. Just thinking about her deleting his number at that time had almost broken his heart all over again. If he was being truthful, Buck couldn’t remember when he went from being sad and lonely, pining after her for months, to almost feeling nothing... Thinking about her forgetting him didn't bother him any longer. He felt a little twinge of emotion—guilt and sadness all swirling together in a small easily poppable bubble—if he dwelled on her, but lately he’d been so wrapped up in all the other fucked up parts of his life that he’d almost forgotten she existed.

She stood on the other side of his door, loose blouse tucked into her skirt. Her hair was still long and unkempt, tumbling all around her shoulders in a neat mess—that’s what Buck liked to call it.

She smiled softly, a sheepish look crossing her face as she met his gaze, “Buck...I was hoping I was at the right place.”

Buck stood frozen, mouth opening and closing rapidly as he took in the odd situation unfurling around him. His grip on the door tightened, knuckles turning white as he blinked several times, sure he was hallucinating Abby during a time when he felt alone.

“Buck?” She spoke again, words sliding over him in that same southern drawl he was familiar with.

He cleared his throat, finally loosening his grip on the door slightly, “What…? How?” He shakes his head quickly, flashing her a soft grin that feels a little more forced than he’d like, “Sorry, I’m just…”

She let out a soft chuckle, nodding like she knew that would be his first question. Buck’s eyes roam over her skin, tanned and smooth, feeling something familiar catch in his chest at the sight of her. 

“Confused? Surprised?” She offers, and all Buck can do for a moment is nod. He feels every emotion he’s stuffed down rising to the surface. He feels the anger front and center, demanding attention.

He sniffs, “Angry, actually. What are you doing here?”

Her eyes widen, the easy smile sliding from her face at his tone. He thinks about the easygoing nature she’d displayed as soon as he’d opened the door. No doubt thinking Buck would be only too happy to see her even after she’d left him for two years. 

“I...I was back in town for a little while, and I wanted—needed to see you, Buck.” She says, taking a cautious step toward him. Without even registering it’s happening, he drops his hand from the door, taking several steps away from her.

Buck’s first thought is to stop acting like a jackass. He thinks back to all those months he would’ve done anything to see her. He thinks about how long he prayed and begged for her to come home, to come back to him. His second thought is to run away from all of the sudden waves of emotion he’s experiencing. He doesn't want to feel these things, not after he’d been doing so well. 

“I have some things I need to tell you.” She tries again, a small smile forming, “And I’m sure you have some things you’d like to say to me.”

Buck shook his head, his voice low and even, “I can’t do this right now. I have work and...and I’m going to need more than a few seconds to feel anything but anger right now, Abby.”

If Buck was honest, he actually had a lot he wanted to say to her. He had more questions than he thought were humanly possible. In fact, he’d thought a lot about what he’d say if he ever met Abby again. He’d had full conversations and monologues planned. Imaginary shower arguments and random outbursts that made him question his sanity. 

He just never expected it to be like this. He didn’t think it’d take two years for her to come back, and he sure as hell didn’t think she would just show up on his doorstep one afternoon demanding to talk. In his head, he usually controlled the conversation since he was the one who had been wronged. Buck had thought she’d call him, but it stood to reason Abby either didn’t have his number anymore—which would explain a lot actually—or her preferred method of communication was no longer via phone calls. It was likely the former.

“I’d like to talk before I leave.” She said, voice dripping in such desperation it almost made Buck want to cave. It almost made him want to let out every raw emotion he’d felt in the past two years. She was standing in front of him practically begging to spill whatever it was she needed to say as soon as possible because it was overwhelming her. Buck felt a little numb at the sudden thought of what she could need to tell him after so long.

He felt his own sense of desperation, a feeling to get the hell out of there, to get away from her.

Buck trudged back into the apartment, retrieving his duffle bag from the side of the kitchen island where he’d left it earlier. He never thought he’d feel so angry and heartbroken all over again when he saw her. He hated that she looked so good. Clearly, Europe had been a little too good to her. 

He squared his shoulders, morphing his features into what he hoped was bored or impassive, “I’m leaving. For work.” Buck felt a chuckle threatening to escape at how fucking comical and insane it seemed to be that Abby would come find him on his first day back at the station. He didn’t laugh though. He kept his face void of all emotion, trying to be brave and nonchalant, when he felt anything but...

She seemed to deflate at the hardness in his tone, at the sheer force he seemed to project at her made it known that he needed to get far away from her. He needed to leave before he felt like he needed to call Frank.

“Okay,” she gave in, wrapping her fingers tightly around the strap of her purse, “I’ll leave...for now.”

Buck sighs heavily, rubbing his forehead in frustration, “Call first next time.” He starts to close the door behind him then hesitates, “Unless you seriously don’t have my number anymore…”

She laughs, the noise a little too bright for the moment, “I do. I just thought—” she swallows, a nervous, pink tinge on her cheeks, “I thought face-to-face would’ve been better after...everything.”

Buck nods, lips pursed, “Call next time.”

He doesn’t wait for her to respond. He doesn’t wait for the next excuse on the long list of reasons she’d created to help herself feel better at the end of the day. Buck just wanted to get away because somewhere in the back of his mind he could hear the faint splintering. He could hear the hushed crumbling of the wall he’d built to guard himself. He had been working toward rebuilding, healing into a better version of himself. 

It was like static shock zapping throughout his body quickly, and he could feel it all the way in his fingertips and the tips of his ears. It felt uncomfortable and a little like he was continuously sticking his fingers in an outlet. Buck needed, for his already fractured mental health, to get as far away from her as possible right now. 

He couldn’t remember how he had managed to make it all the way to the station. He couldn’t remember starting his car, and he sure as hell didn’t remember driving through all the traffic. Buck clenched his fists, slamming his open palm onto the steering wheel in frustration before dropping his forehead down, resting it lightly where his hands gripped the wheel. His breathing was heavy, harsh, and too frequent. He felt overwhelmed.

But at the same time...Buck felt guilty. 

Buck was a master at acting rashly, not thinking about anything other than his first instinct. He was all too good at reacting instead of thinking through things logically. That’s why Buck was so _broken_ for so long. He didn’t man up and deal with it like he should’ve. He’d allowed all of his emotions, all of the wars raging within him, to fester and build until it left him hollow and empty. He ran away from Abby in hopes of doing the same thing. Buck ran away and hoped that if he just _kept running_ she would walk away again.

As much as Buck didn’t want to admit it, he was more than a little curious at the thought of what Abby could be so desperate to tell him. He was too willing to put himself on the metaphorical chopping block if it meant having answers to all of the questions he’d wanted to ask for so long. Buck found himself struggling with the notion of leaving, trying to find her, hoping maybe she’d still be at his loft. He wanted to slap himself for being such a coward for walking away from her instead of hearing what she had to say.

After all this time, Buck could attest that knowing was far better than not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be up soon! :)


	13. just hold on

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So your one great love is back?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I come bearing gifts! 
> 
> If it wasn’t obvious, I took a hiatus, and it was great for my soul. BUT I’m ready to get back to this buddie fic. Updates will be sporadic for a few weeks, but I should be on a more consistent schedule after a while since I’m changing jobs! (Yay for all of us)
> 
> This has been done for a while, and I’m not entirely happy with the ending, but I wrote and rewrote several times, never really finding myself completely over the moon with any of it. I decided to just post it since the next few updates will be moving on to bigger and brighter things. 
> 
> I’ve missed all of you, and I do see your comments. I’ve fallen behind on responding, so just know that even if I haven’t responded, I’ve still read it AND I LOVE YOU.
> 
> I’m not on twitter much right now. I still have it, but I’m only on sporadically.  
> I have joined tumblr, but tbh I’m not sure if I’m using it right LOL   
> http://fernnette.tumblr.com/

Frank had been telling Buck for too long that he needed to be more open and honest with his friends and family. Believe it or not Buck was in the business of listening to his therapist in hopes it would heal his brokenness. Buck's first inclination, unfortunately, was to turn to Eddie, to spill every secret and worry until he was out of breath and feeling entirely too vulnerable. For obvious reasons Buck couldn’t seek out Eddie. It didn’t feel right. It almost felt like if Buck reached out to him he was pressuring Eddie to give more of himself than he was ready to give. 

So Buck didn’t contact him. He didn’t message or call even though the need to know why his face was banged up and why he had the occasional wince in passing seemed to outweigh Buck’s entire Abby related fiasco. 

Instead he decided to call Maddie after his shift ended. Frank would probably prefer it this way since he seemed to think Buck and Eddie both would benefit from some space even though Buck wanted nothing more than to feel Eddie’s hand on his shoulder, comforting him while he struggled to keep it together. Buck didn’t want much, but he knew what little he did want was too much to ask for at the moment. 

Buck changed in the locker room, cutting up with Chim as if he’d never left, and eventually messing around with Hen when she came around. Eddie was nowhere to be seen until the morning briefing, and even then Buck only saw him for a moment. It was like he blinked, and Eddie just vanished into thin air. He was avoiding him. Buck wasn’t stupid. He knew things would be a little awkward and tense when he first came back. Buck prepared himself for this… Or he thought he did until Abby showed up on his doorstep, and he stupidly allowed himself a whole freak out in the parking lot about it.

He shook his head as he stood from the table, following Chim and Hen downstairs to start inventory and cleaning chores before a call came through. Buck needed to keep a clear head, and that’s exactly what he would do until the end of shift. Because at the end of shift there were really no guarantees.

//////

The first time the bell rang Buck ran so fast to the truck he could hear Bobby and Chim laughing at him from across the station. Buck couldn’t help himself though. He was a ball of nervous, excited energy that needed to get out in the real world with the jaws and rescue somebody. He needed to feel that little rush again.

The first call of the shift didn’t disappoint. A car had slid off of a cliff side and was now dangling precariously with its only support coming from a crumbling rock. Cap instructed Buck and Eddie to rappel down and bring any victims to safety. As weird as the shift had started, it didn’t seem to bleed into the way Buck and Eddie worked together. If anything out was as if nothing changed, or maybe even had gotten better. The two of them flowed well, maneuvering the passengers out of the car and into Hen’s capable arms without even breaking a sweat. Okay, they were sweating a lot, but not from the difficulties of working together. 

By the time they arrived back at the station, Eddie was gone again, sneaking off to finish his chores or call Christopher. Buck wanted to be understanding. He wanted to put his own feelings aside to give Eddie the space he needed. But everyday became harder and harder to not talk to him, or look at him, or lean on him.

Calls two, three, and four all followed the same pattern. Buck and Eddie would work incredibly well together, acting and playing around like nothing weird was going on between them, and as soon as the engine backed into the station, Eddie was bolting out of Buck’s sight. By the end of the shift Buck was ready to scream in frustration. He was ready to bonk Eddie over the head and shout at him to get it together! 

But...he didn’t.

As much as it was killing Buck to watch Eddie distance himself, he let him…for now.

//////

“Mads, what’re you doing here so late?”

Buck looked down at his watch, noting the time around nine-thirty. Surprisingly he was ready to go home and sleep for a solid twelve hours—nightmares permitting. Buck purposely only snuck in small amounts of sleep during this shift in hopes it would keep him from having any sort of mental breakdown while he was around his team. It wasn’t that he wanted to keep it from them. Buck just didn’t want to be a bother during an already chaotic time—what’s more chaotic than a firehouse? 

But Buck could tell by the downturn of Maddie’s lips and the crinkle by her eyes that she wasn’t happy which immediately made him stand a little straighter, move a little faster until he was in front of her, staring into her stormy eyes. She was clutching a box from the bakery she frequented with her colleagues at the center. Buck’s stomach grumbled at the smell of the sweet treats.

“What’s wrong?”

Maddie licked her lips, voice low as she asked, “How long?”

Buck lifted a brow, “Huh?”

She pinned him with a look so dirty Buck leaned back without thought. Maddie’s brow was furrowed, and she looked close to tears. “How long has she been back?”

Buck froze, his breath caught in his throat as he struggled for words. It wasn’t hard to figure out what she was talking about. It was painfully obvious who she was referring to in this scenario considering Buck had been frazzled about her reappearance the entire shift. 

“Buck?” Maddie asked lightly, bending so she could look closely at Buck’s face. Her eyes softened at whatever was written there—probably guilt and pure grief. Buck had spent the entirety of his short replaying the harshness of the conversation. He spent more time than he’d like examining her feminine, light tone and his abrasiveness towards the whole chat. 

“I don’t know. She showed up at my door yesterday when I was leaving for my shift.” Buck explained.

Maddie jerked back, “She just showed up?”

Buck nods, “She thought a face-to-face would be better.”

“She hasn’t seen you in two years, and she doesn’t even call?” Maddie scoffed, “What did she want?”

Buck exhales heavily, his head clearing as his heart calms, “To talk… She said she needed to tell me something.”

“And did she…?” Maddie asked, then further explained, “Tell you what she needed, I mean.”

“No.” Buck said then threw his hands up in surrender when Maddie glared at him. “Geez, Maddie, I was on my way out. I didn’t have time to stay and talk… Not that I wanted to anyways.”

She crossed her arms across her chest, brows dipping in confusion, “You don’t want to hear what she has to say? You aren’t in the least bit curious what she could say that’s so important after two years, Evan?” 

“Oh, the first name…” Chim said, coming to stand beside Maddie, his hand reaching out for hers to squeeze lightly, “Sounds serious. What’s going on, Buckaroo?”

Buck felt his palms getting sweaty. 

Before he could answer, Hen and Eddie came strolling down the stairs, joining their little group by the exit. 

Hen smiled, “Are we messing with Buck? Don’t leave me out. You know that’s my favorite thing to do.” She ruffled his hair lovingly, stopping abruptly at Buck and Maddie’s serious faces. Hen, unlike Chim, tended to read a room better than most. Eddie stood beside Buck, far enough away to make Buck want to scoot closer, yet close enough for Buck to smell his spicy cologne, the scent washing over him and calming his nerves. 

“Buck was just telling me that Abby’s back in town. Right, Buck?” Maddie said. Buck watches his friends' faces drop all together. This is what he was hoping to avoid. Buck didn’t want all of this attention. He didn’t want to bother them with all the ups and downs of his life that couldn’t compare to everyone else’s problems. His eyes caught Eddie’s, noted the concern etched on his face.

— _ you’re exhausting— _

Buck shook his head, forcing himself to forget those stupid fucking words for two seconds. Eddie had apologized. Everything was good now. So why did Buck still think about those two little words every time he spoke? Why did those words break him down into nothing within seconds? 

“Abby’s back?” Eddie asked, hand lightly dropping to his shoulder, and Buck could not help the sudden rush of emotion he felt. It felt strange to talk about Abby while he was leaning into Eddie’s touch. It was strange that he felt so much anger toward her while he felt nothing but desire for him. If Buck hadn’t been in therapy this whole time, the revelation would’ve been a shock to his system. Everything about his thought process just then would’ve knocked him on his ass in the worst way, but all he heard was Frank and his reassuring words. 

Is this healing? Is this the growth Buck had been yearning for? Frank and all of the google research he’d done assured him that he’d heal in subtle ways, small indiscernible ways, until one day he realized “ _ Wow I feel better” _ . Buck wondered if this was that moment for him… It didn’t feel like it, but it did feel like maybe he had discovered one of those small moments that he’d normally miss. In this impossible situation of feelings Buck would rather not deal with, he felt hope. He felt a little surge of light in the darkness that reminded him he was on a long journey that want easy. 

He cleared his throat, eyes flicking to Eddie’s, “Yeah. Showed up at my door before shift yesterday actually.”

“So your one great love is back?” Chim questioned, head turning as he searched the group's upset faces, clearly confused. “Isn’t this a good thing? Haven’t you been waiting for her this whole time?”

Maddie sighed, “Chim…”

“I—I don’t know.” Buck said, stumbling over his words a little. He felt a little flustered at the mention of his love for Abby when the man he had feelings for was standing beside him, slowly inching his hand off his shoulder like he was aware of how bizarre the situation seemed. 

Hen smiled softly, “That’s okay, though. To wait for her, I mean.”

Buck groaned in frustration, pointedly cutting his eyes toward Eddie in hopes he’d understand what he was trying to convey to him in the moment even though they were surrounded by their coworkers. Buck said, “I’m not—I wasn’t...God, I’ve moved on from Abby, okay? She wasn’t some great love.”

Hen and Chim shared a look—the kind that said  _ bullshit _ —then let out a little snicker. Eddie shoved his hands in his pockets, eyes glaring at the floor like if he stared a little harder it might crumble under his feet and swallow him up. Buck found himself wishing for that to happen to him too.

“Buck. Buckaroo.” Hen said, stepping forward to squeeze his shoulder, “You haven’t had a serious girlfriend since Abby.”

“Ali—”

“Sure, Ali was a nice girl, but you were never serious about her,” Hen continued. “Abby was good for you at the time. She made you think about more than yourself.”

Buck scoffed, “Really?”

“You put Abby on this pedestal above everyone else because you thought she was the reason you became Buck 2.0.” Hen said, “There was never Buck 1.0 or 2.0. Just Buck. You’ve always been this Buck, and you always will be with or without Abby.”

Maddie smiled, stepping up behind Hen, “So much wisdom and truth happening right now, Evan.”

Buck rolled his eyes, suddenly feeling a little uncomfortable with the mush that was happening, “Okay, okay. I get it.” He focused on Maddie, “I’ll talk to her. Closure or whatever.”

“Good. Now,” Maddie turns to Chim, grabbing his hand affectionately, “I’m starving. Let’s go eat.”

Buck smiled as he watched Hen, Chim, and Maddie start toward the parking lot, laughing and chatting about where they wanted to go. Hen was already on the phone, probably calling Karen. Buck stayed behind for a moment, standing still beside Eddie who hadn’t moved in the last few minutes. Buck didn’t move or even breathe for a few seconds, not wanting this moment to end. Not that he could even call it a moment considering nothing was happening, but Buck could feel the heat coming from Eddie’s body, could feel the tension rolling off of him. He didn’t want to disrupt this little instant where it was just the two of them after weeks of nothing.

After a few seconds, Buck muttered, “What’re you thinking about?”

He thought Eddie would walk away, that he wouldn’t even answer him. He thought Eddie would do what he always does which is shut down and move on. So when Buck felt the faintest brush of Eddie’s arm against his own, he froze. 

“Does she…” Eddie hesitated, voice trailing off, and Buck struggled to keep his eyes on his friends’ retreating backs. Finally Eddie asked, “She doesn’t change anything, right?”

Buck’s brow furrowed, confused by the question, “What do you mean?”

“Never mind. Forget I said anything.”

Buck swallowed, his brain catching up to the current topic after wandering the chaotic mess that was his ex-girlfriend, and he whispered, “Oh.”

Eddie sniffed, kicking at the ground once, “Forget it. I need to go get—”

“No.” Buck blurted out. He turned, facing Eddie so he could see his face as he said what they both needed to hear in the moment, “No.”

Buck hoped Eddie would understand because he couldn’t seem to get any other words to form, and his mouth felt a little too dry to continue talking properly. Buck wanted Eddie to know that nothing had changed for him. 

Fortunately Eddie seemed to know what Buck was trying to say, or at least Buck assumed since Eddie for the first time in weeks, Eddie let his eyes roam over Buck’s face almost like he was trying to commit all of his features to memory before they inevitably had to go separate ways which was the last thing Buck wanted. He understood though that he needed to let Eddie come to him even if it took longer than he’d like.

Eddie exhaled softly, “Okay.” He nodded, eyes trained on Buck’s like he was in a trance before he seemed to snap out of it, head turning to look outside at the parking lot. Eddie sniffed again, a quirk of his that Buck was beginning to love, “I should go get Christopher… He’s with Abuela.”

Buck nodded, throwing an arm out toward the exit, “Yeah, no, sure. I’ve got to…” Buck looked back at the lockers, “I need to grab something from my locker, so go ahead.”

“See you later, Buck.”

“Yeah…” Buck watched Eddie walk away, eyes never straying from his back as he climbed into his truck, “See you later, Eddie.”

//////

Buck didn’t have to wait long for Abby’s call. In fact he waited a whopping one day before he was getting a call from her old number. He was a little shocked that after all this time of calling and messaging her, waiting for a response that never came, she was still using the same number. Buck felt a little sick, a little embarrassed, at the realization that she’d ignored him while he waited for her. 

He debated not answering for a minute. Even after telling Maddie he would hear her out, he briefly considered sending her calls to voicemail just like she’d done to him too many times. In the end, he answered though because he was a genuinely good person, and that bugged him for some reason. It irritated him in that instance that he was a kind person even when someone didn’t deserve his kindness. 

“Hello?”

“Buck? Hi! It’s Abby…”

Buck sighed, “I know.” At her questioning silence he added, “Caller ID. You have the same number.”

She laughed nervously, her obvious anxiety seeping through the receiver, “Right.”

“Did you need something?” Bucks asked, suddenly needing to hear whatever she needs to say, so he can close that chapter of his life. 

“Oh, yes. I was hoping we could meet and talk. Maybe at that coffee shop by my old place?” She asked, an edge of hopefulness in his voice that made Buck’s heart clench uncomfortably.

Buck clicked his tongue, “I have to work today.”

“I saw a little cafe by your apartment. How about there?”

Buck wanted to reject her. He wanted to hang up the phone and slam it into the wall so she couldn’t call him ever again, but he didn’t. He made a promise to Maddie that he’d hear her out. Closure and all that. Instead he cleared his throat, shaking his head quickly to help clear some of his ugly thoughts.

“Sure. Can you be there within the next thirty minutes? My shift starts in a couple of hours.” Buck stopped, “I’m assuming this won't take that long.”

He could practically feel Abby’s excited, nervous energy through the phone as she confirmed she’d be at the cafe soon. She also confirmed it wouldn’t be a long talk since whatever she had to say wasn’t something they necessarily needed to discuss. She just needed him to know.

Buck hung up the phone.

This should be fun, he thought.

//////

Buck was pissed. 

He was beyond the acceptable level of mad that the situation called for. He knew that, yet he couldn’t help the way his blood boiled and the tips of his ears turned bright red as he tried to slow his heart rate as he drove to the station. He knew he wouldn’t be late, but he didn’t like pushing it like this. He didn’t want to toe the line like this, but he also couldn’t make himself leave the coffee shop any earlier.

He heard the beep on the other end of the phone, making him slam his hand down on the wheel as he parked his Jeep beside Eddie’s huge ass truck. Buck debated just hanging up then decided to leave a voicemail.

“Abby, it's Buck. You know, the guy you were supposed to meet two hours ago to share this big announcement of yours?” Buck sighed, a frustrated sound that irritated him even more as he scrubbed his free hand over his face. He continued, “Listen, I can only take so much right now, Abby. You haven’t been around so you don’t—” He paused, the words caught in his throat, “It’s not important. Just…please leave me alone. I don’t want to hear what you have to say anymore. I’m not curious, and I’d like to just move on with my life. So please just—”

The phone beeped again, cutting him off and hanging up for him. 

Shit.

//////

“What’s wrong with you?” 

Buck jerked his head up to see Eddie leaning in the doorway of the locker room, and Buck was transported back to a time when things were simpler. It was like deja vu, and it made him greedy for the way things used to be. It made Buck needy for more time with Eddie.

Buck cleared his throat, “Nothing.”

Eddie nodded, nose wrinkling cutely, “Is it Abby?” His lips twitch, “Maddie told Chim you were meeting with her.”

“Right. Naturally he needed to tell everyone else.” Buck rolled his eyes, turning back to his locker to deposit his keys and such onto the bottom.

“Attitude. Not a good sign…”

Buck sighed, slamming his locker harder than he intended to, “Eddie, man, just drop it.”

Buck could see the moment that little spark, the anger, flamed within Eddie. He could see the way his eyes lit up, and the way his fists clenched at his sides. He watched the easy, laid back aura fade into something tenser, darker, angrier. Buck watched the other man transform right in front of him, and he didn’t really know what to say.

Eddie clicked his tongue, the sound almost slapping Buck across the face as he watched Eddie close himself off, “Okay, yeah. Forget I said anything. Forget I cared.”

He watched Eddie turn around and walk off, hating how dramatic the exit was and how much he liked it. Buck wanted to chase after, to spill his guts about how mad he was at himself for caring so much, for having a heart three sizes too big for his own good. But he didn’t. He let him go once again because as much as he tried to tell himself he was over the past, that he was forgiving and forgetting, he wasn’t. 

— _ you’re exhausting— _

It felt like a back slide, like climbing a steep hill or trekking up the side of a mountain with inadequate gear and losing your footing when you’re more than halfway. It hit a little too close to home all of a sudden just how far away he was from the end goal. It made his stomach roll violently as he thought about the two little words he thought he’d willed away, forgave and forgot weeks ago. Buck wanted to believe that, despite Frank’s preaching, it was as simple as accepting an apology and forcing himself to move on. 

Buck thought too much though. He could admit it. He thought too much about how broken he felt. He thought about how lost he would be without this job, or Maddie, or Eddie… He thought too much about Eddie. He thought about the past, the times before Buck realized just how over the line of friendship he was. Buck felt like the supporting character in a tv show or movie. He felt like the second lead in a drama who never got the person they were chasing after, and Buck couldn’t really blame Eddie’s hesitancy or fear for most of it. No. Buck blamed himself for a lot of it. He blamed his inability to acknowledge a problem well enough.

He thought back to when Eddie apologized for those little words a few weeks ago. He thinks back to how easily he accepted his sorry’s, and how quick he was to shift the blame off of Eddie and onto himself. Like even though Buck was hurting because of something a friend did, he’d protect his friend’s feelings before his own. Because that’s just who he is. Too caring. Too empathetic. Too kind for his own good.

Buck took a deep breath, waiting for himself to calm down enough to be around the others. Eventually he wandered his way up the stairs and into the kitchen where he mindlessly made himself a cup of coffee, leaning against the counter while also trying to avoid Eddie’s angry glare from the table.

//////

Buck looked out, vision blurring and focusing again and again as if he just couldn't quite grasp the site in front of him. He supposed this wasn’t the worst thing he’s seen in the job. The tsunami was a thousand times worse and catastrophic than this was, but it still hit Buck deep, plucked on his heartstrings, to see the absolute carnage happening in front of him. Cars were destroyed and crushed, forming a messy pile on the bridge in front of the crew. He could hear the heavy machines whining and the injured people crying. 

Before the tsunami, Buck wasn’t as tuned into all of his emotions and the emotions around him like this. Only after the tsunami did he start feeling things, things that didn’t even relate to him, deeper than ever. It was like an inescapable anxiety that crashed over him as he walked onto any call. He could feel the distress in his bones. In some ways that made his job more difficult, but he also found he could focus better, work harder. Like being able to harness all of the raw emotions he let himself feel made him a better firefighter.

Just like every other call, Bobby paired Buck and Eddie off, sending them to help different passengers around the scene. Eddie did a brief examination of each passenger they came across while Buck figured out the best way to extract them from the cars. It didn’t take long for them to develop a rhythm of care, and before long they’d helped several people out of the crash area and over to Hen and Chim. 

Eddie grabbed a few supplies from the ambulance, tucking them into his duffle he’d slung over his shoulder. He glances at Buck, “Go ahead. I’ll catch up.”

“I’ll see you out there.”

Buck sprints off to where they left off, banging his hand of the cars while yelling for anyone conscious to call out.

“Please! We’re trapped!”

As soon as Buck heard the small voice from a particularly smashed truck, he took off to the drivers side door, jumping and climbing to maneuver over different debris in his way. He was squatting on another car's hood when he was finally able to look into the vehicle. His eyes widened. His breath caught.

“Abby?”

She caught his stare, eyes wild and crazed as they flitted around like she couldn’t stay focused on one spot. He recognized the adrenaline that must’ve been pumping through her veins, and he reached into the door to lay a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“Abby, look at me,” Buck ordered. She focused on him as much as she could, but Buck could tell she was struggling. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

That seemed to snap her out of whatever fog had settled over her because Buck had to squeeze her shoulder to steady her as she started to thrash about in her seat, trying to search around the car from what Buck could see.

Abby started screaming, “Buck! I have to find him! You have to get me out of here, so I can find him!”

“Find who, Abby? Who’s missing? I’ll find whoever you’re looking for.”

“I have to find him! Get me out of here!”

Eddie appeared off to the side, duffle slung over his shoulder again, “What’s going on over there?”

Buck ignored him. He could only handle one person’s questions right now, and Abby’s seemed to be a little more important to him at the moment. He squeezed Abby’s shoulder again, “Who are you looking for?”

“My husband!”

//////

“Evan?” Frank asked, his voice filtering through all of Buck’s thoughts until he focused on the present. “Are you still with me?”

Buck cleared his throat, “Yeah… I’m with you.”

Frank nodded, continuing at Buck reassurance, “We were talking about Abby. She had some big news for you.”

Buck licked his lips, inhaling roughly as he replied, “Big news… How about ginormous, life-changing news?”

Frank lifted a brow, “That seems a little far-fetched. How does this news alter your life?”

“I suppose it doesn’t actually affect me, does it?” Buck snapped. After a second, he sighed, “What if I had been waiting for her this whole time?”

Frank tilted his head, truly considering the question, “Seems like a concept you shouldn’t let yourself get hung up on. The take-away from her return is to give you some closure, so you can fully let her go which, in my professional opinion, I believe you already have.”

“It’s only made me think about what could’ve been.”

“And what exactly is that, Evan? What kind of fantasy have you created?” Frank asked bluntly.

Buck’s brow furrowed, and he sat up straighter, “She’s married and pregnant, Frank! She ran off to another country to find everything she could’ve had with me with someone else!”

Frank rubbed his chin, “What was it that you told me in one of our previous sessions? We’d talked about Eddie that day I think. You said it as you were leaving, and I don’t even think you realized what it truly meant.”

“What’d I say?”

Frank leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands, “What’s meant to be will always find a way, so maybe everything was meant to be this way.”

And just like that, it became a mantra for him. A simple sentence to provide him with light in otherwise dark times when he needed it most. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My plan is to end Abby’s story here. I had a little more planned, but ya girl is so tired of her. I just want her gone. 
> 
> ALSO I know Abby is forty-something, but she can still get pregnant for those who are like WTF lol... just pretend okay?


	14. it won’t be long

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Need some help?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello? Is this thing on?
> 
> HEY COOL CATS IM BACK but with limitations :(
> 
> You can thank red_to_black for this because she updated tethers (holyshitballs), and its my ultimate inspiration for all things in life. 
> 
> I have spent every waking moment writing lately since thats now my job. It’s hard to find time for this wittle baby waby of mine, but I’m trying, okay?? I think I’ve explained about all the issues with how much my schedule sucks, but ill just reiterate: it fuckin sucks.
> 
> SO here’s an update! Everything will still be sporadic, but the story is so close to being done (or at least at a point where you can consider it done while i still add a lot of fluff and smut baybee) 
> 
> ALSO i love reading your comments. Some of you who have commented asking for an update have spurred me on, lit a fire under my goddamn ass to provide because I’m so glad yall love this story as much as I do. Things are looking up for our babies, and I think it’s time Buck was happy for once. (Sorry for dragging him through the mud) 
> 
> So if anyone is still with me, thank you for being patient. This fic is for you. If I’ve lost you along the way, I hope you find your way back to see the beauty that is Buddie.

It’d been two weeks since Buck’s unexpected run-in with Abby. Two weeks since he spoke with Frank and decided it was for the best to put the past behind him and focus on the future. Two weeks since he’d decided to make a game plan for what that said future would entail. Of course, two weeks seemed like a long time in the moment, but in the grand scheme of things it really wasn’t. It was more like a tiny little blip in the timeline Buck was operating under. But two weeks had passed, and Buck was only flourishing, 

He felt healthier and happier, even if the things he wanted most were still out of reach. By “things he wanted” he meant two whole pizzas to himself, or a vacation to the beach, or his best friend… Actually he didn't care about any of those other things. He just wanted Eddie. He wanted his friend back, and he wanted Chris back. There was a special place in his heart for Sam, the little girl who somehow made this lug-head sentimental and feel a tad bit dumber than usual, but Chris would always be like his own. He’d always considered Chris family—Eddie, too—so not being able to see them, or share in their life, like he wants makes him feel slightly miserable. 

But Buck has a plan. Well, like half a plan. It’s still in the developmental phase thanks to Sam, Kaylee, and two weeks of watching Eddie silently brood. Two weeks of watching Eddie slink off when he enters a room, or whisper conspiratorially with Bosko, or come into the station with a fresh wound on his face and possibly other places that Buck can’t see. The first time Eddie came in with a swollen lip Buck approached him, demanding to know what the fuck had happened, but Eddie got all…not Eddie. It was strange. Instead of bucking up and getting angry like Buck thought he would, he softened, a sadness in his eyes that made Buck want to reach forward and run his thumb over his cheek. He didn’t explain the busted lip. He didn’t make an excuse or lie about it, but he didn't tell the truth either. 

Then he watched Eddie come in for his shift with more injuries. One day it’d be a cut over his brow. Then a couple of days later he’d have a bruise on his jaw, and one time Buck just happened to see—he was not being pervy—a wicked black and purple bruise on his ribs. Buck was growing increasingly worried everyday, and it took every ounce of restraint he had not to scoop Eddie into a hug so tight he couldn’t move and tell him to get the fuck over himself. But he didn’t do that. Mainly because he’s certain Eddie would fight him on it, and he’s about ninety-six percent sure Eddie could hold his own. 

Either way, the point is that Buck has sat quietly, plotting his elaborate—not really—plans to seduce Eddie Diaz for two weeks, and he’s restless, impatient. Everyday Kaylee sends him some cheesy motivational image that looks like a thirteen year old made it, but it makes him laugh. It’s become a real thing between them, and he finds himself waiting for whatever dumb image she sends like it’s a present with a shiny bow on it. 

Like right before he laid down for bed, she sent an image with a pretty basic pink and white background with a quote that said “Be the girl that goes for it” and Buck actually snorted and cracked up. It was silly and a bit immature, but dammit, it was funny. Kaylee sent a little winky face with it, and Buck fell asleep with a stupid smile on his face as he thought about the quote. 

//////

Buck jackknifed out of bed at the sound of a shrill ringing beside his bed. His eyes blinked a few times, adjusting to the pitch black around his room. For a minute he just sat there, listening to the ringing, before he realized he should probably answer that.

He looked at his alarm clock, noting the time—2:46am.

“Hello?” He answered even though he didn’t know the number. It looked vaguely familiar though.

A female voice responded, “Hi, this is Mary Hart at Los Angeles General Hospital. Is this Evan Buckley?”

Buck perked up. He was suddenly more awake, and he was untangling his legs from his blankets and sitting on the edge of his bed within a matter of seconds. “This is Evan Buckley. What’s happened? Is Maddie okay?”

“I’m sorry. We don’t have a Maddie. I’m calling in regards to Edmundo Diaz.”

“Eddie?” Buck’s brow furrowed, and he let out a shaky breath. “Is he okay?”

The woman was clicking something or tapping on her desk one, but the noise was starting to irritate Buck. “Mr. Diaz was brought in a little while ago. He’s sustained a few injuries, but he should be able to go home in an hour or two. You’re listed as his emergency contact, and he’s in no condition to drive tonight.”

Buck was already stumbling around his room, dragging on a pair of jeans and a long sleeve t-shirt. “Yeah, okay. I’ll come get him.”

Buck has never gotten himself ready as fast as he did then. He was out of his door within minutes and driving to the hospital he’d spent plenty of time at over the past couple of years. It felt strange walking in as a guardian instead of a patient. The young man at the front desk, Jeremy, recognized him immediately and a smile split his face as Buck approached him.

“Buck? Please tell me you haven’t hurt yourself again.” Jeremy says, his tone playful.

Buck gives him a shaky grin, pulse racing as he thinks about Eddie. “Actually its not me tonight. I’m here to collect a patient.”

“Oh. That’s a change of pace for you.” He laughs then plops in his chair. “Name?”

“Eddie Diaz. Edmundo, actually.”

Jeremy blinks at Buck. “Oh, the fighter.”

“The what?”

“The fighter. He’s been in several times. I guess it’s finally caught up with him. Pretty sure Mary said he’s sporting a broken rib or two.”

Buck’s forehead wrinkled, and he inhaled another shaky breath. Eddie had been fighting? It’s not surprising. Actually it makes so much sense that Buck’s wondering why he didn’t come to the conclusion himself. Is that what he’d been into with Lena? He’d noticed her with a few odd bruises here and there as well. What was he mixing himself up in, and why did Buck feel so guilty? Guilty for not noticing Eddie clearly needed a friend.

Jeremy pointed down the hallway, interrupting his thoughts. “He’s still in the emergency room. I’ll walk you there.” Jeremy rounds the desk, and they begin down the hall. “Usually he comes in with a woman—Lisa, maybe?—but today he hobbled in all alone.”

“Lena. The woman is probably Lena.”

Jeremy nods, “Ah, Lena. Yeah, that sounds right. Anyways she comes in with him most of the time. Not today though.”

Buck doesn’t say anything. He’s not quite sure what there is to say if he’s honest. His head is scrambled, and he can tell he’s getting swept away in his thoughts. All of the careful planning to woo Eddie suddenly seems ridiculous. All this time Buck had been giving his best friend space, so they could hopefully drift back together as more than friends. Friends who kiss like that night in Buck’s apartment. Friends who maybe more than kiss.

He felt guilty now, knowing that all this time Eddie was struggling through his muddled thoughts so much he decided to take up…what? Fighting? What kind of fighting? Because it seemed like no rules, fight-to-the-death type of fighting, which is silly because he knows—he hopes he knows—no one actually died. Eddie would never participate in something like that. Then again he didn’t think Eddie would turn to violence like this either, so maybe Buck doesn’t know as much about Eddie as he thinks he does.

Jeremy comes to a halt a few feet away from where Eddie is perched in one of the several hospital beds. His face is pinched in pain, drawn tight as he leans back against the bed with his eyes closed. He isn’t hooked up to any machines, so Buck figures they’re just waiting on someone to pick him up.

“There’s your man.” Jeremy says with a gesture in Eddie’s direction.

Buck nods, squeezing the kid’s shoulder lightly. “Thanks, Jeremy.”

He beams at Buck before backing away to go back to the front desk. Buck waits a few minutes before he approaches Eddie space, giving himself the pep talk of the century in being a good friend despite wanting to lick every inch of Eddie’s body—that’s a new feeling that probably developed around the same time he happened to see the giant bruise on Eddie’s ribs. Buck doesn’t claim to have it all figured out all the time, but his dick definitely figured something out for him that day.

Buck shakes his head to clear away the dirty thoughts as he stands at the end of Eddie’s bed. His eyes are still closed, but his face doesn’t look as pinched as it did a few minutes ago, so maybe that means he’d been given some kind of pain reliever.

“You just gonna stare at me all night?”

Buck startled, his knee hitting the bed rail when Eddie spoke. His eyes remained closed, but there was a small smile playing on his lips, just a ghost of a grin that made Buck’s stomach flip chaotically.

Buck let his eyes roam over the rest of the man laid before him. He examined him from a distance, writing his own report to catalog the injuries his best friend had that he could see. There was a small cut on his lip, a bruised nose, cuts and bruises across his knuckles, and probably several bruises under his shirt and pants. He looked tired, of course. His skin paler than usual and bags under his eyes that made Buck want to wrap him up in a hug.

Eddie blinks his eyes open, slowly, accessing Buck as he stood in front of him. “You’re seriously just going to stare at me?”

Buck huffed out a laugh before biting his his cheek in an effort to keep himself subdued. Things with Eddie were still hard, but he needed to put that aside for the moment at least. Eddie needed Evan Buckley, the best friend. Not Evan Buckley, the asshole who made a move on him.

“You ready to get out of here?” Buck asks, ignoring the whole “you’re staring at me” thing.

Eddie grunts as he leans forward on his bed, “Yeah, man. Get me the hell out of here.” He grunts again, and Buck shoots forward, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to guide and help him out of the bed. Eddie relaxed in his arms instantly, leaning into the touch, which made Buck draw in a surprised breath. Over the last month or so Eddie’s shied away from any touch of Buck’s. He stiffened and slinked away at the smallest brush from him, so this was shocking.

Probably the pain meds they’ve given him.

Buck didn’t let his grip on the other man slip until he was tucking him safely in his car. He helped him with the seatbelt, avoiding any eye contact as much as possible. Buck didn’t want to make Eddie uncomfortable. Hell, he probably didn’t even want Buck to pick him up.

The thought of Lena Bosko traipsing around with Eddie made his blood boil. Thinking about all the times she’d apparently watched him take a beating only to bring him to the hospital to get stitched up made him angry, unreasonably angry. Buck needed to talk to Frank. He needed someone to help him understand the tightness he felt in his chest. It was different than before. A few months ago, he felt anxious at every turn, especially around Eddie. This tightness he felt right now in the car with Eddie was something harder, unbreakable, and a little electrifying. It felt like it wrapped around him, squeezing him tightly until he couldn’t breathe. This tightness came without a warning. It demanded to be seen and heard. It demanded all of Buck’s attention and more. This tightness didn’t make him anxious; it didn’t make him panic. No, this tightness made him feel stronger, possessive, a little reckless. It made him want to absolutely pummel anything that hurt Eddie. It made him want to tear Lena apart piece by piece for sitting by while Eddie hurt himself and others. This tightness made him angry, yet soothed him at the same time.

He was clearly confused.

//////

“Do you need any help?”

Eddie swallowed, “Um, maybe. I don’t—let me try first.”

“Right,” Buck nodded, turning on his heel to wait outside the bathroom door. He listened to Eddie grunt and groan as he tried to undress himself despite the broken rib he was sporting. Buck had tried to get him into bed immediately, but Eddie had insisted on a shower to wash away all of the dried blood and hospital smell. Buck didn’t put up much of a fight considering he understand probably better than most about the grimy feeling when you left the hospital.

Another grunt sounded then a low curse. “Okay. I’ll take that help now.”

Buck smiled at Eddie as he pushed off the wall and back into the small bathroom. Eddie had one arm out of his shirt with the other one propped high with the shirt pushed high. Buck didn’t let himself look over the expanse of skin there. He didn’t let his hands wander over the bruises, fresh and healing, scattered over his torso like he wanted to. He didn’t let himself hope that things were changing between them. It wasn’t the right time to yearn for those things.

“Here. Lift your arm a little,” Buck said softly. He helped Eddie out of the shirt before dropping it into the hamper beside them. He flicked his gaze to Eddie’s then shook his head. “Need help with the rest? Can you bend?”

Eddie shook his head. “Not really.”

“Okay. Just stand still for a minute.”

Buck approached the removal of Eddie’s pants from a clinical standpoint. He tried to pretend Eddie was someone he rescued from a fire and medical needed the extra help. He tried to pretend he was undressing an old man in a nursing home and prepping him for a sponge bath or something.

He squatted down, flicking the button open and pulling the zipper down before sliding his fingers into the waistband to pull them down. He looked up at Eddie after a moment only to find him with his eyes squeezed shut tightly and biting hip lip harshly. He looked like he was in pain, and Buck’s brow furrowed as he stared at him, hands frozen in the waistband of his jeans that he’d only managed to push down a couple of inches.

“You okay up there?” Buck asked, pulling his hands from Eddie’s hips.

Eddie let out a little groan, and Buck stood to examine Eddie’s body for a hidden injury making him hurt. Eddie was still squeezing his eyes closed, and Buck pretty sure he could see a trickle of blood slipping from Eddie’s lip to his chin.

“Eddie?” Buck asked. Oh, what the hell. He brought a hand up to Eddie’s face lightly. His thumb slid over the top of his cheek before drifting down over his top lip then gently over his bottom. When Eddie released his tight hold on his lip, Buck ran his thumb over blood there, collecting it on the pad of his finger. He dropped his hand, turning to wash his hands before grabbing a rag off of the shelf and wetting it. When he turned back to Eddie, his eyes were open, watching Buck move gently around him.

Buck lifted the washcloth to his lips hesitantly. “I’m going to clean this a little. Tell me to stop if you need me to, okay?”

“‘Kay.” Eddie said hoarsely.

Methodically he wipes and dabs at Eddie’s lips, wiping the dried blood on the corners of his mouth before wiping the fresh drops that slid down his chin. He sticks his tongue in the corner of his mouth, concentrating harder than necessary on the small task in front of him. When he’s finished with his lips, he moves to the blood around his nose then to the cut above his eyebrow. He cups Eddie around the nape of his neck, letting his thumb stroke the skin while his index finger plays in the short hairs there. It’s an unconscious move. He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it until he’s finished cleaning all the blood off of Eddie’s face, but he doesn’t stop. Mainly because of the blissed out look on Eddie’s face.

Buck keeps his movements steady, rubbing his thumb and index finger slowly, soothingly. Eddie’s eyes flutter open, landing on Buck’s.

Life is made up of moments. Good or bad. Buck’s had a lot of moments he wished he could erase, a lot of moments he wished he could forget, but he understands that in order to have the good moments you have to have the bad. Buck’s just mushy that way. He knows that he’ll always remember the moment he saw Eddie lying in that hospital bed, pale and in pain. That’s the bad moment he’ll always have tucked away in a special part of his brain.

But…

The good moment he’s able to stow away though is right now. This moment of complete and total contentment on Eddie’s face when he looks at Buck. The heady, glazed over way he stares into Buck’s eyes like he’s never wanted anything more than to see him. It’s a look Buck’s been dreaming of seeing on his face for weeks, a look he didn’t think he’d see if he’s honest. Buck doesn’t want to break whatever magic—probably the bad kind of dark voodoo magic—that’s made Eddie look at him this way, but he never wants it to stop. He never wants Eddie to look at him any other way than he is right now.

Eddie opens his mouth then closes it. He licks his lips then opens his mouth again. “About that shower…”

Buck huffs out a laugh, “Yeah, okay. Let’s finish getting these pants off then I’ll leave you to it.”

“Strip me, Buckley.”

Buck barely manages to stifle the groan he feels bubble up before squatting back down in front of him.

//////

**Buck:** coffee? bagel?

Buck walks into the small coffee shop close to Eddie’s house. Eddie’s talked about this small café several times before, but this is the first time Buck’s actually been in himself. Eddie’s always brought him coffee and bagels since the shop is closer to him. Buck looks down as his phone pings.

**Eddie:** I do love coffee and bagels.

He rolls his eyes.

**Buck:** do you want coffee and bagels?

**Eddie:** Is my name Edmundo Diaz?

Buck chuckles before ordering for the two of them. He thinks back to last night. He realized very quickly that Eddie was a little high from his pain meds, and that dampened whatever good vibrations he was falsely getting during whatever the hell happened between them in the bathroom. Buck had stepped out just as he started watching Eddie’s bare ass wiggle as he struggled to get his briefs down his legs. His dick was inappropriately hard, and it was time to get the hell out of there before he did something ridiculous like jack off in front of the newly released hospital patient.

Not good.

He left soon after tucking Eddie into his bed with another dose of pain meds—found those in his bag of goodies he’d carried inside with him—and a glass of water on his bedside table. Eddie was passed out before Buck even got out the door. Fortunately Chris was with Abuela for the night, so he didn’t have to worry about that before he left. Buck thought about sleeping on the couch just in case Eddie needed anything, but he also didn’t want to overstep. He already felt a little slimy touching him so affectionately without considering Eddie wasn’t really consenting to it. He was just along for the ride, and that made Buck shudder in disgust.

He thought about just messaging him to check on him, but he figured Eddie would need a little help getting situated for the day and maybe getting Chris, so he decided to swing by before he had to be at the station. Fortunately Eddie wasn’t on shift today, but he’d definitely have to take off for a few days to heal up enough to be useful.

“Buck!” The barista shouted from the counter with his drink carrier and bag of bagels before he could let his thoughts swallow him up even more than he’d let them last night.

He scoops the carrier and bag, offering a quick thanks, then heads outside to his jeep. It’s a short ride to Eddie’s house, and he drums his fingers along with some stupid pop song on the radio instead of worrying about what’s to come when he arrives.

Buck let himself think enough about everything last night for the feast of his life. He thought about every possible outcome over and over again. He mainly focused on the worst-case scenarios, but occasionally he’d let one of the better-cases blossom in his mind before he stamped it out like it was a fire at work.

He grabbed the coffees and bagels then strolled as casually as possible to the front door. He knocked then let himself in, knowing Eddie wouldn’t be in the best shape to hobble to the door when Buck could just open it himself.

“Eddie?”

He heard a grunt from the living room. “In here.”

He rounded the corner to see Eddie struggling to sit up on the couch, grunting and heaving as if this, the act of sitting up, were the hardest thing he’d ever done. It was equally hilarious and a little frustrating, like Buck was the one trying to sit up ion the couch. He found himself wanting to grunt and throw himself up along with Eddie.

‘Need some help?” Buck asked, already coming in close to wrap a hand around Eddie’s bicep.

Eddie shrugged his touch off, shaking his head. “No, I can do it. Just get me that damn coffee. I’m dying.”

Buck refused to let the brush off get to him. What had he been expecting? Open arms and a love confession? He already figured out the content look on his face last night was because of the meds, but he couldn’t lie and say it didn’t hurt having it confirmed for him right then.

Buck nodded, handing him one of the travel cups. “Right. Here… How are you feeling?”

Eddie grunted, less pained and more bored, “I’m fine. I’ve had worse. I should’ve known they’d call you.”

“I am your emergency contact,” Buck sat on the far end of the couch as he sipped his own coffee. “You gonna tell me what the hell happened?”

“No,” Eddie simply said.

“No?”

Eddie gave a curt nod, “No.”

“Jeremy says you’re fighting.” Buck said, unable to let the subject drop.

Eddie scowled, flicking his eyes over to Buck. He looked hard and annoyed, like Buck being in his space was worse than the broken rib and cuts. Eddie leaned back into the cushions, “Jeremy, the front desk guy?”

“Yeah, he’s a friend.” At this point, that’s the least he should be considered.

Eddie sniffed then snorted, “You fucking him? Fucking that kid, Buck?”

Buck straightened, his brow slamming down as his nose scrunched. His heart beat erratically as he stared at the closed off expression on Eddie’s face. He stood, grabbing the bag of bagels from the coffee table before tossing the bag to Eddie.  
  


“There’s your food. From the café you like.” Buck managed. His voice sounded too quiet and a little pained. He wanted to scream and yell, but he didn’t. He wanted to shake Eddie so he could see that he didn’t want anyone else. There wouldn’t be anyone else until…well, just until.

Eddie grabbed the bag. His face was still impassive, unreadable except for the way his eyes lit with annoyance. “I’ll take that as a yes then.”

Buck inhaled shakily then let it out. “Eddie, stop.”

“Why? Feeling embarrassed about fucking some kid?”

Buck felt the small band of restraint snap. He felt his body go from defensive and frozen to pliable and heated, anger coursing through him in a matter of seconds. He felt every goddamn emotion he’d felt bubble to the surfaces even though he’d tried so hard to push it down and be there for Eddie in a friendly capacity.

Buck looked his friend, the man he really fucking liked, in the eyes, “Fuck you, Eddie. You know I didn’t have sex with Jeremy. There’s only one goddamn man I want to fuck, and he wont stop being an asshole about it for a few minutes!”

“I’m trying, Buck! I’m trying to understand how I can go from liking tits and ass to getting a fucking boner watching you clean the truck! Nothing makes sense, and I’m confused, okay?” Eddie shouted.

Buck wanted to take a moment to enjoy that last little bit, but it was not the time unfortunately.

Buck shook his head. “Why does it have to make sense? Do you think any of this makes sense to me? I’m just as confused as you are, Eddie. I just thought—”

“Thought what?” Eddie asked, his eyes focused on Buck completely. His hands were planted on his knees as he leaned forward slightly.

“Thought you might want to try to make this work as much I do. That we could…we could figure it out together.” Buck confessed softly, his anger dissipating as quickly as it’d arrived.

Eddie closed his eyes, leaning back against the couch again. “You are my best friend, Buck. Do you have any idea how much Chris has missed you?” Eddie shook his head, “I don’t mean it to sound…I just—if we start something, and it’s weird; our friendship will never be the same.”

Buck huffs out a sigh, plopping his large body back onto the couch beside Eddie. He’s closer than before, their thighs just barely touching, and he’s trying to ignore the heat coming off of his body, which is a little hard considering Buck is so fucking touch-starved he wants to cry. Not necessarily starved in general, more like specifically Eddie’s touch. He didn’t really grasp how many little touches they shared until they didn’t share any.

“It’s going to be weird, Eddie, but what if…what if we’re missing out on something great?” Buck asked, looking straight ahead.

He could feel Eddie turning his head to look at Buck’s profile, and it took everything in him not to turn his head too, to line everything up so perfectly.

“Buck…” Eddie said softly, and Buck did let his head fall to the side then. He let himself look at Eddie, and he saw the heat in his eyes, the desire rooted there that he tried to hide. Eddie was laying himself out there in the best way he could at the moment.

Buck brought his hand up slowly so Eddie could move away if he didn’t want him to touch him this way, but he didn’t. His eyes stayed locked on Buck’s, and sure, it felt a tad bit awkward to stare at your best bud this deeply, but it also made Buck’s skin heat, a flush crawling over his body. He let his fingertips brush over the side of Eddie’s neck, a feather light touch that made the man sigh contentedly. Buck let his fingers graze the skin again before cupping the nape of his neck like he did last night, his thumb slowly caressing the skin behind his ear and his index finger brushing through his short hair.

Eddie breath hitched, and Buck could just barely feel the thump of his pulse under his skin if he concentrated hard enough.

Buck swallowed, “I’m going to kiss you. Stop me if it’s too…”

“Weird?” Eddie supplied.

Buck grinned, “Yeah.”

Eddie nodded, and Buck wasn’t sure if it was in consent to the kiss or about stopping him. He didn’t want to think about it. He just wanted to think about Eddie and his willingness to let this happen now.

Buck leaned forward, brushing his lips across Eddie’s slowly. Just a grazing before he did it once more then twice then a third. This wasn’t their first kiss, but it was the first kiss where they had a moment to breath and explore. It was the first kiss where both of them were willing to see what happened between them. There would be no running after this. No more excuses.

“Christ, Buck, just fucking kiss—” Eddie began.

Buck cut him off, pressing his lips onto Eddie’s firmly. His hand stayed on his neck to hold him in place as the kiss deepened. Buck could feel the moment Eddie started to melt into him, and he let himself go, let himself stop thinking so hard about this. He just wanted to enjoy it for a moment. He kissed Eddie like he couldn’t get enough of him, like he’s wanted to for weeks now, and when he thought Eddie might pull away, he darted his tongue out, licking at the Eddie’s bottom lip before he granted him access, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue inside, tangling with Eddie’s as the kiss changes from soft and hesitant to hard and hungry.

Eddie slid his hands over Buck’s arms to rest on his shoulders, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt. Buck doesn’t move his hand from around Eddie’s neck as he lets his other hand rest on Eddie’s waist lightly, like he’s terrified he might scare him away.

Eddie pulled away first, letting his forehead drop to Buck’s shoulder as they pant heavily.

Buck clears his throat, “Was…was that weird?”

A weak laugh punched out of Eddie, “No. Nope.”

Buck grinned, a silly, goofy grin that he was glad Eddie couldn’t see at the moment. He bit his lip in an effort to conceal it, but it didn’t help. After a minute, he finally got himself together enough to turn the cheese factor down several notches.

He swallowed, “Good, good. It was good, so that’s really…good.”


	15. i will find you here inside the dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He is dying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey baybees!
> 
> I’ve decided to go ahead and update again since my schedule is getting busy again, and I’m not sure when I’ll be able to again for a hot minute. 
> 
> This chapter is more of a set up. Kind of boring in my opinion, but there’s so much more talking that needs to happen still. So many feelings to be felt, ya know?
> 
> So without further ado, grab your special juice and buckle up! 
> 
> (Just kidding but seriously i hope you love this.)
> 
> I’m not on twitter anymore, but i am on tumblr.  
> http://fernnette.tumblr.com/

Buck was about ninety-eight percent sure he was about to vomit in Eddie’s decorative bushes. His stomach rolled, and sweat dotted his forehead. He was nervous. Actually, that’s an understatement for how utterly fucking petrified he was.

At one point he’d thought nothing of swinging by Eddie’s house to hang out with him and Chris for the night. Hell, at one point he would’ve strolled right through the door without knocking or waiting for Eddie’s painfully slow ass to let him in. He had an emergency key for gods sake, so clearly Eddie trusted him in his home. But now things have changed. Buck is no longer just the best friend. After that kiss, that incredible, sexuality-confirming kiss, he wasn’t sure where he stood. He didn’t understand the rules anymore.

Buck wanted rules. He wanted to know exactly where he stood, which was typically an Eddie way of thinking, but he couldn’t help the helpless feeling he felt at his utter lack of control in this situation. If Eddie were a woman, Buck might be able to handle everything a little better. He’d been getting his freak on with women for years now, but Eddie was very much not a woman. He had a penis and defined muscles—abs, he had abs—and large arms and muscular, hairy legs (oh, and a fucking penis). Not that Buck had been freaking out or anything since this suddenly became more of a reality.

Maybe this is the exact reason Eddie completely ignored Buck’s existence and joined an underground fight club. Maybe Buck should join the fight club now that he thinks about it… That’s a thought for another time. Right now he needed to focus on keeping the late lunch he had in his stomach, so he can just fucking knock on the front door.

Buck leans over, hands on his hips as he stalls for time examining the surprisingly healthy plants surrounding Eddie’s porch. He wouldn’t have pegged Eddie to have a green thumb, but apparently he was wrong. Or maybe it’s Carla that takes extra care of the bushes and plants. A small bubble of laughter trickles out of him as he imagines Eddie on his knees pulling weeds.

The fantasy warps until Buck’s imagining him sitting back on his heels, reaching up slowly with the front of his t-shirt to wipe the sweat dotting his brow. Fantasy Buck is way braver than Real-Life Buck. Fantasy Buck wouldn’t hesitate to march right over to Eddie, pull him until he was standing to his full height, and whip his shirt over his head. He’d run his hands over the smooth planes of muscle and tan skin that made his mouth water. Buck would lick at the sweat glistening along his neck. Hell, he’d probably go full slut and try to lick his way up the other man’s abs right there in front of the whole neighborhood. Fantasy Eddie would yank him into the house, admonishing him for winding him up where anyone could see. Maybe Buck would even taunt him a little more, work him up until Eddie’s ready to completely tear him—

“Buck? What’re you doing with my bushes?”

Buck startles, jumping away from the plants like they were drugging him, and that’s why he was having a weird sexual fantasy about Eddie right there on his lawn. To make matters worse, he was very much rocking a half-hard cock that only flagged the little it did because he’d been so fucking frightened when Eddie opened the door. Like he’d been caught jacking off with his pants around his ankles right there.

Jesus… Get it together, Buckley.

Buck shoots Eddie a small, shy smile, a blush creeping over his cheeks without his permission. “What? Nothing. I was just noticing the soil looked a little dry.”

“Really?” Eddie raises a brow, “‘Cause I’m pretty sure Carla watered them this morning. It’s kind of her thing.”

Buck drops his head a little, feeling like a ginormous idiot all of a sudden. He’s not sure why he feels so awkward. Okay, he knows why he feels awkward. It’s not a big deal, or at least he’s not going to make it one. Sure, he kissed his best friend. Sweetly, gently, then a little naughtily. Honestly, kissing your best friend then immediately having to hightail it to work is a little uncomfortable. So is messaging said best friend about maybe, potentially, if they’re up for it, having a hangout with his cute as hell kid. Thinking about kissing that best friend and potentially taking it much, much further than just kissing is a little naughty, he’ll admit it.

But it wasn’t a big deal.

Buck has kissed _so_ many people. Well, that makes him sound a little slutty, but he’s pretty sure Eddie’s probably kisses several people too. Kissing is totally not a big deal. It’s just incredibly intimate and normally associated with having feelings of fondness for the person.

Eddie chuckles, snapping Buck out of his very quickly spiraling thoughts. “My head hurts just looking at you. Come inside. I’m pretty sure Chris is trying to put that police car together by himself.”

“He’s working on it? Really?” Buck perks up.

“Yeah, but he keeps grumbling about needing _his_ Buck.”

Buck smiles despite telling himself he’d play it cool tonight. A goofy, pleased grin covers his face, and he finds himself stepping closer to where Eddie’s standing in the doorway, surrounded by the glow of the fluorescent lights from the hallway. His soft, dark hair is combed over neatly like always, too short to really do much with, but Buck is sure he could mess it up at least a little. Eddie’s wearing that long sleeve henley Buck’s come to appreciate (Thank you cotton for sticking to Eddie’s muscles like peanut butter sticks to the roof of Buck’s mouth and leaving so little left to the imagination.) and dark jeans that fit him too well. That’s a thing Buck does now. He studies Eddie’s appearance. It’s a new thing. He didn’t always notice the shirt Eddie wore, or the way his butt filled out his pants, or the way his skin looked so goddamn lick-able all the time—it really sucked and not the good kind of sucking.

Buck finally unsticks his tongue from the roof of his mouth, another sheepish grin on his face. “Can’t leave the little man hanging then.”

Eddie smiles, wide and happy, and Buck just stares at him like the big oaf he is. That’s probably why the smile drops from his face almost as quickly as it popped up. Eddie clears his throat, undoubtedly feeling all kinds of awkward just like Buck.

At least they’re awkward together. _God, what a cheesy fucking thing to say._

Buck slips past Eddie without another word to go in search of Christopher, who he hasn’t seen in weeks thanks to this newfound lust he has for the kid’s dad. Fortunately Chris lights up like a damn Christmas tree when Buck’s rounds the corner into the living room. Unfortunately all of the guilty, jackass-y (it’s a word, okay?) feelings come back full force, and he finds himself plopping down on the floor right beside Chris while trying to talk himself off the crying-his-eyes-out ledge.

“Buck! You’re here!”

Buck wraps an arm around Chris’s shoulders, ruffling his hair. Chris swats at his hands, giggling at him, and Buck plasters his best grin in place even emotionally he feels like he needs to call Frank and schedule an emergency appointment.

“No where else I’d rather be, little man.” Buck responds, and it’s the most truth he’s spilled in a while. He clears his throat knowing Eddie is only a few feet away from them listening. “What’re you building here?”

Chris sweeps a hand in front of the barely assembled police car in front of him. “I need major help.”

“Hey! I offered to help you,” Eddie exclaims from the corner, mock-offense seeping out of him.

“Not you,” Chris giggles. “I need Buck’s help.”

Eddie grumbles, “What am I? Chopped liver?”

“Ew, that doesn’t sound tasty,” Chris grimaces.

Buck chuckles, picking up a few pieces from the coffee table where Chris has laid all of the parts out. He pops two pieces together then concentrates on getting a few more while the Diaz boys chatter about liver and why Eddie would say such a thing.

This is what Buck’s been missing. It would’ve done wonders for Buck’s mental state if he were able to chill out with Chris and Eddie for the time he was out of work again and struggling to just breathe. Of course, it’s Buck’s own fault for pushing the sexuality button while he was already dealing with the feelings of self-loathing and total mental exhaustion. He still has nightmares, and he still has that little nagging feeling every time he speaks. He still hears Eddie yelling at him in the grocery store, and he still feels like he’s pinned occasionally.

“Chris, why don’t you go wash your hands? Pizza’s probably getting cool.” Eddie directs Chris out of the room then turns to Buck, staring at him intently, hands on his hips like he wants to say something, but he isn’t quite sure how to.

Buck stands from the floor, loving the way his body doesn’t crack and groan yet. Buck wasn’t sure what to expect from tonight. He wasn’t sure if this get together is purely for Christopher’s benefit, or if they are planning to actually talk about what this new, very consensual kiss meant for them. After months of waiting and hoping for this conversation, the talk that solidified everything both of them were feeling, he’s suddenly entirely too nervous for it to happen. He wants to stall for time, time to talk himself down, because he has way too much fucking hope after Eddie kissed his mind to mush so sweetly two days ago.

Eddie steps toward Buck. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

Buck frowns, “Huh? No.”

“You’re just acting all…weird and shifty. What’s going on?”

— _you’re exhausting—_

Buck lets his head fall back to look at the ceiling. He breathes out a shaky breath before mumbling quietly, “I’m really nervous.”

“What?” Eddie takes another step toward him, “You sound like Chris. Just spit it out, man.”

“I’m nervous, okay?” Buck flings at him.

The words hang between them almost tauntingly. Like there’s a real Mexican standoff going on about who is going to actually try to do something not entirely awkward with Buck’s poorly managed feelings.

Eddie just stares at Buck for a moment. His face is a little too blank for Buck’s liking, but he’s not sure what else to say. He feels likes he’s opened the giant can of worms between them too quickly and now they were trying to figure out how to make things right without spilling the worms all over each other.Then again, Buck isn’t even sure if Eddie wants to talk about the looming cloud of feels hanging over them. Maybe he just wants to hang out like old times, cracking open a beer and watching a movie with Chris.

Buck starts to unravel, the thin rubber band of hope snapping against him painfully as he starts to spiral down a rabbit hole of self-doubt and that little voice in his brain that says he’ll never have this. He’ll never have this happiness because everyone leaves him. He’s unworthy of something so…good.

Because Eddie is good. The best.

“Glad its not just me then,” Eddie says softly after a few minutes.

“Pizza!” Chris roars from the hallway. There’s a loud thud in the kitchen and another small, “Oops.”

Eddie snorts out a laugh, a smile dancing on his lips even though his eyes are comically wide. He meets Buck’s gaze for a moment before spinning on his heels.

He shouts playfully, “What is happening in here, kid?”

“Buck did it!” Chris points his finger, face deadly serious, at Buck as soon as he steps through the the doorway.

Buck holds his hands up in surrender. He gasps, mouth wide, eyes bugging, “What? This is the ultimate betrayal!”

“You two are a mess. Go sit down.” Eddie shoos them out of the way so he can clean up the dropped slice of pizza on the floor. Pizza sauce is splattered all over the floor, and Buck watches in rapt fascination and awe as Eddie slips into full on dad mode. He cleans the mess, presenting Chris with a new slice, and his straw cup with his “special” juice. Eddie’s squatting with a handful of paper towels and a spray bottle of cleaner while Chris chats about his day with Abuela.

It takes ten full minutes for Eddie to finally sit himself down at the table with his own slice. Two minutes later he stands to grab his forgotten beer off the counter before settling again. Then Chris asks for more pizza, and before Buck can offer his help, Eddie is already up with a new slice to hand off.

Buck has watched this same scene play out several times. Too many to count honestly. He’s gone dizzy watching Eddie run around like a chicken with his head cut off over the course of an afternoon. Granted, things are much easier for him now that Carla is there to take some of the load, and Buck would like to think he does his fair share…when he’s around at least.

“Then Missy Porter said I didn’t know any _real_ firefighters, so I told her my dads were real firefighters,” Chris rambles before taking a break to bite off a pepperoni.

Buck chokes on his beer. Eddie looks like his eyes are going to literally fall out of his head; his knuckles are white around his bottle, and Buck pretty sure he’s trying not the let out a yell, a scream, a wild cry for relief.

Eddie clears his throat, “That’s—I am a firefighter, so is Buck and Hen and Chim. Bobby, too.”

Chris nods along as he lists names, like he didn’t just casually lump Buck into the ‘dad’ category. Like he didn’t just casually toss Buck in front of a moving bus for him to be slaughter like Regina George.

//////

“I never thought he’d settle.”

Eddie drops to the couch leaving the middle cushion empty between the two of them. Buck is torn between feeling thankful and hurt. Thankful because he needs a little space. Hurt because he wants to feel every bit of Eddie Diaz’s body heat next to him.

Buck nods, taking another pull from his bottle, “Fuck. I was ready to pass out after the first story. I don’t know how he was still begging for more after three.”

“Yeah, he didn’t just work a long shift at the station either.”

“Good point.” Buck nods, eyes narrowed, “Very good point… When did you start making those?”

Eddie laughs, clicking through movie titles until he settles on one they’ve watched together hundreds of times and probably hundreds more separately.

Eddie scratches his chin, sniffing, “Probably sometime when I started hanging out with you. Someone has to be the smart, responsible one in this duo.”

“I resent that,” Buck says immediately then tacks on, “But it’s also true, so thank you for taking that on, man.” He reaches to clap the other man on the shoulder before drawing his hand away quickly.

He’s wound up. His body is tense and little achey from how stiff he’s held himself all night. Buck’s never been so unsure of himself. He’s never had to wonder what he could and couldn’t say with Eddie. That’s one of the reason they were best friends. Buck can be himself, crazy, dumb, and child-like, with the Diaz’s. He doesn’t have to be someone he’s not, and Buck’s never had a friendship like that. Obviously he doesn’t want to lose it, but at this point things are fucked. Things will always be fucked between them now.

Buck thinks they have two options. One, they can talk it out and decide to cease all communication for the time being, so they could try to salvage the friendship in the future. It would suck balls, but Buck is prepared. (Not really. He’ll probably cry if this happens. Dear god.) Two, they talk and decide to take the risk of a romantic-style relationship. (Sounds like the best option to him honestly.) Either way that means talking has to happen, which it also just so happens neither of them are inherently great at.

Oh, well.

“Buck—”

“Listen—”

They start at the same time then freeze. Buck chuckles then gestures for Eddie to go on first.

Eddie shakes his head, “You go first. You look like you have a lot to say. Don’t hold back.”

Buck breathes. It’s shaky, a little nervous, like he can’t quite figure out how to smoothly inhale and exhale. The talking isn’t the hard part for him right now. The hard part is trying to slither past that stupid part of his brain that won’t forget Eddie yelling at him. Every time he thinks he’s past it, it rears it’s ugly head and threatens to drag him back down into the pits of hell again.

_—you’re exhausting—_

He knows he’s only hearing it now because it’s Eddie he’s here with. Eddie yelled it. Eddie threw it at him hoping to leave a mark, and buddy boy, did it ever. Even now as he’s trying to have the conversation they’ve needed to have for weeks, he’s freezing up.

Eddie scoots a hair closer on the cushion, still not touching and keeping his distance, but closer all the same. Buck can see Eddie’s hand twitch, and he goes a little haywire at the idea that Eddie trying to keep himself subdued as well. He’s not sure why the thought hadn’t occurred to him. That Eddie is as unsure and nervous as he is, and despite it all, that makes him feel better.

He doesn’t want to jump into it all though. He wants to start slowly, ease both of them into the idea of a potential relationship and what that could look like. They’re both adults. Adult men. Holy shit. Buck has totally been fantasizing about another man’s penis… without even realizing it’s not a goddamn pussy.

Okay, no. Focus, Buckley. Start slow.

“Why were you in the hospital? Fighting?”

Or not. Good try though.

Eddie’s eyes widen for a moment, clearly not expecting that topic either, before his brows are slamming down, eyes shuttering as his face transforms into something blank and unreadable.

Eddie picks at the label on his bottle. “Yeah. Some underground fight ring.”

“I didn’t expect—I thought I’d have to, like beg for the answer a little. Hold on, I have to gather my shit again.”

Eddie lets out a reluctant chuckle, flicking his eyes to Buck’s. He sighs, “I thought about not saying…” He closes his eyes then gives himself a little shake. “We don’t have secrets. We never have.”

Buck smiles, bashful and sweet. The hope he was trying to stomp down seems to surge upward, choking him with all the emotion he doesn’t want to feel until much later when he’s alone.

Eddie stares at the movie, but Buck can tell he’s not really watching. Buck notes the way his mouth is making small movements, mouthing words softly. Buck is staring. Not trying to hide it, or pretend that he’s looking at something just over Eddie’s shoulder. He doesn’t want to hide the way he feels anymore, and sure, it feels a little bit like whiplash in his own brain, the way he’s gone back and forth, but this Eddie? The Eddie that’s talking to himself quietly with a light flush in his cheeks? The Eddie that read just told Buck he didn’t want any secrets between them essentially. The Eddie that looks deliciously worn out and somehow put together at the same time.

“What are we doing, Eddie?” Buck asks, worry seeping out of him in fear of what Eddie’s answer might be. Buck knows what he wants. He’s known for weeks, maybe months, that he wants Eddie in any way he can have him. If that means Eddie decides he just wants to be friends, Buck will be the best goddamn friend he’s ever had. But if there’s some chance he might want more…Buck is more than willing to try. To do whatever he needs to do to make Eddie comfortable and happy.

Eddie twists, so he has one leg bent and one foot planted on the floor, elbow resting on the back of the couch, head resting in his hand. He’s looking at Buck, really looking at him. Buck watches his eyes flit over his face studiously then down his neck and over his chest. Buck is pretty sure he’s heaving in air under the scrutiny, but it feels good. His skin is warm and tingly under his loose eyes. Eddie doesn’t stop looking, roaming down his chest to his crotch, which is tenting up quite nicely, and Buck smiles smugly at the subtle widening of Eddie’s eyes before he moves on down his thighs to his feet. It’s the definition of a full body check out. It’s bold and so different from anything he’s used to from Eddie’s eyes. It’s exhilarating, and he wants more. So much more.

Eddie clears his throat, snapping his eyes back to Buck’s. There’s no worry there that he’s blatantly done a perusal of another man’s body. “I don’t know. A month ago, I wasn’t fucking gay. I don’t know anything anymore.”

Buck rolls his eyes. “Eddie, that is so… There’s more than just straight or gay, man.”

“Uh, what are…what did you, uh—” Eddie stammers.

Buck stops him with a calming hand on his arm. “My sexuality? I’m not really sure.”

Eddie gives him an incredulous little laugh that Buck decides he really likes and wants to hear more of. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means…” Buck trails off with a shrug. “I’m not worried about a label, I guess. I just know I’m attracted to women, obviously—”

“—obviously—”

“—but I’m also attracted to…to you, and you are very much not a woman.”

“I am not.”

Buck nods like he also working it all out with Eddie on the fly like this. Truth is, he’s talked to Kaylee about his newfound sexuality so much, he feels talked out. He doesn’t feel the need to put himself in some kind of box right now. Later, when its not so new, he’ll really mull it over and flesh out all of the details, but for now he’s content to just be—with Eddie, hopefully.

Eddie swallows, “So you don’t—”

“Have it all figured out?” Buck finishes for him. Eddie nods. “No. Not even close.”

Buck watches as some of the tension in Eddie’s shoulders dissipates, and Buck can see that the whole label idea is clearly weighing him down. The relief in his eyes that maybe he doesn’t have to have everything figured out right now is evident on his face, and Buck wants nothing more than to wrap an arm around him. Nothing sexual. Totally innocent.

Okay, maybe a little handsy on those back muscles. He’s not a saint.

Eddie sinks into the couch a little more, eyes on the movie again. He glances at Buck then back at the screen. “What if…” He huffs out a breath, frustrated, and runs a hand over his jaw, “What if I’m not attracted to other…men? Just—what if it’s just, you know, you?”

First of all, Buck wants to scream from the utter joy he’s feeling. He wants to jump into a frozen lake so he can get rid of some of this heat he feels from the admission. Obviously this is Eddie’s thing. He’s trying to work things out in his own head. Not everyone is like Buck. Some people want or need that label, so more power to you. Kaylee has done her best to explain what she can to him.

Second of all, Buck needs to get his head out of his own ass, so he can help talk his friend through this conversation. Buck has had Kaylee fortunately. If he hadn’t had someone to help talk him off the ledge several times, he would’ve given up on all things. Eddie didn’t have anyone like that really, and Buck wants nothing more than to be that person for him. His person.

“I’m almost ninety-seven percent sure there’s a label for that.”

Eddie smiles softly. He stares at Buck, shakes his head quickly, before a determined look crosses his face. He sits up a bit straighter, like he’s preparing himself to say something hard, so Buck finds himself mirroring his actions. He doesn’t turn on the couch like Eddie, but he does twist slightly, both feet planted firmly on the floor, so he can drape his arm across the back of the couch and still drink his beer. He’s going for cool, calm, and collected even though he feels exactly the opposite .

Eddie huffs, “I want—no, I need to say something. I’m sorry. For…everything, Evan. Like everything.”

“Eds…”

“No,” Eddie stops him with a hand on top of his that’s on the back of the couch. Buck jolts from the touch, the last thing he expects honestly, but recovers quickly as Eddie slowly—so fucking slowly, like it’s the first time he’s ever held someone’s hand, and he needs to really study the hand first—twines their fingers together sloppily. Eddie looks a little embarrassed, like he can’t believe he’s somehow messing up holding hands, but Buck likes it. He likes the sheepish smile on his face, and he really likes the sloppy hand-holding. It’s messy and some of Buck’s fingers are left out of the loop, but he doesn’t want perfect. He isn’t asking for perfect. He likes Eddie despite all of his flaws. No. He likes Eddie _because_ of his flaws.

Buck drops his head slightly, mumbling, “I like this…” he gives Eddie’s fingers a soft squeeze, and the way Eddie’s smile grows only makes Buck want him more. Eddie’s happiness is infectious.

“Me too.” Eddie says. He clears his throat, trying to get himself back on track, “I was an asshole during…all of this. There was no point when I wasn’t an asshole. I wasn’t thinking about how hard it was for you, too. I was just thinking about…me.”

“You have more invested in this, Eddie. There’s Chris, first and foremost. You only have a few family members here, and then there’s the one-eighteen. I have had people to…turn to and confide in. Who’ve you had?”

Eddie opens his mouth then shuts it before repeating the motion.

Buck gives him a sad smile. “I didn’t realize it until Maddie pointed it out. I’ve been your support since you moved here. Not to, you know, brag or something. I’m not. I’m just saying—I didn’t think when I kissed you. I didn’t think about how it would unravel everything, and when I was talking to Maddie or Frank—hell, even Kaylee,” Eddie humphs at her name, “—I was able to figure some things out. I know you, so I know you haven’t talked to anyone about any of this. You probably haven’t really let yourself think about deeply.”

“I’ve thought about things.” Eddie grumbles.

Buck continues, “So I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you. I’m sorry I haven’t been a good friend to you. Now and…other times.”

Eddie’s brow furrows in confusion before realization dawns on him. He squeezes Buck’s fingers, demanding his attention without actually saying a word. When Buck meets his stare, he’s surprised by the heat in his gaze, the anger and frustration simmering under the surface.

“Listen to me. You have nothing to apologize for, okay? Neither of us were great during that time. I shouldn’t have said that shit to you, and—and… Fuck, I messed up so bad that day. Probably every day since.”

“Eddie,” Buck gives himself a mental shake to tell himself, _fuck it,_ before scooting over into the middle cushion. He doesn’t press his thigh onto Eddie’s, or sling his arm over his shoulders. He just moves closer, desperate to clear the air of this nonsense once and for all. Buck pleads with his eyes locked on Eddie’s, “It’s really okay.” He decides not to mention the fact that he still hears those words. At this point it’s Buck’s personal hang up. “I want to forget about all that. Clean slate and all that for…us.”

Eddie’s eyes are soft. His hand is somehow still tangled with Buck’s, albeit even messier than before. “Us.”

“You like that?” Buck asks with a shy smile.

“More than I want to admit honestly.”

Buck smiles, scrunching his nose as he flicks his eyes toward the forgotten movie. He feels silly being this happy when nothing has really been decided between the two of them. “Good. I mean, me too, obviously.”

“Obviously.”

//////

“Evan, how are things lately?”

Every appointment starts the same. Buck sits in the leather chair that is somehow way more comfortable than it should be, and Frank starts with the same question. Or at least a variation of it. Every appointment is the same, and at first Buck kind of hated it. He hated because it felt too clinical, maybe? Now he loves it. He loves the fact that he knows exactly what to expect going into the appointment. It’s soothing in a way, the routine.

Like every appointment, Buck pauses before answering the question to follow the pattern on the carpet. He traces the swirls and shapes with his eyes, which has become another beacon of calmness for him.

Finally Buck can’t really contain his grin anymore, and he finds himself smiling at the floor as he answers, “Things are…” he chuckles, “really fucking great. Sorry about the language.”

“Not a big deal.” Frank says with a smile of his own. “I’m glad things are great. Tell me why.”

Buck sighs dreamily, like a fucking cracked out, lovesick moron. He hates it. He loves it. Why is he like this? “Eddie. Without a doubt.”

Frank raises a brow, “Eddie? Mr. Diaz is the source of all this happiness?”

“We’re not dating.” Not yet. “But we…talked, and it was—talking was great.”

“Not dating, but that’s what the goal is? Both of you want that?”

Buck hums then his forehead wrinkles and his nose scrunches. “I think so. For me, that’s the goal.”

“Ah, so it was _that_ kind of talk,” Frank chuckles. “Let’s move away from the romantic stuff for a moment. How are things on a deeper level? Are you still having nightmares?”

Buck huffs out a breath. He naively thought that maybe he could just talk about all his romantic-styles feelings for Eddie during this appointment, and he wouldn’t have to dampen his good mood with things like nightmares of being pinned or drowning or losing a sweet little boy.

It’s not that Buck likes to avoid—okay, no, he definitely likes to avoid that topic. Not because he’s some masochist that loves to feel utterly spent and miserable for the entire day afterwards. More like out of sight, out of mind… It isn’t a good way to think about things. He knows that. Hell, he’s given advice telling people to do the exact opposite of that. Whats that saying about never taking your own advice? There has to be one for that…

Buck sighs, “Come on, Frank. I’m in such a good mood.”

Frank arches a brow, “So that’s a yes? To the nightmares?”

“Yeah,” Buck nods solemnly, “The same old scenes. Pinned, drowning, unable to save Chris.”

“Did you have any nightmares after your talk with Eddie?”

Buck thinks, nose scrunching, “Uh, no, I don’t think so. My days are running together.”

Franks nods in understanding before looking down, clasping his hands together. “Have you told Mr. Diaz about your nightmares? What you dream about?”

No. Fuck, no. “No.” Buck tilts his head, “Well, he knows I’m having nightmares, but I don’t think I told him…you know, all of it.”

The truth is he didn’t want to share that with Eddie. Not because he doesn’t want him to know. More because he doesn’t want Eddie of all people to treat him with kid gloves. Everyone has issues. Everyone struggles, and everyone has moments in their life that make them feel less than. This is one of those times for Buck. He doesn’t want Eddie to see him the way he sees himself. Weak. Completely unworthy of whatever him and Chris are willing to give him. Because Buck is selfish that way. He shouldn’t want it. He shouldn’t risk the best friendship he’s ever had for something he will inevitably mess up, but he wants it so bad.

He wants to stay. He wants to stay until Eddie leaves.

“If the goal is to be together, honesty should be first and foremost. Don’t you think?” Frank questions.

Buck shakes his head, a sad smile on his face. “The goal isn’t…” Buck feels the lump of emotion in his throat, choking him as he tries to speak. “I just want to stay until…until I cant.”

//////

Buck bounces up the stairs toward the kitchen with a one track mind. He’d been told there were brownies. No, he’s not about to eat several brownies from a random visitor again. These brownies were made with love from Maddie, so he knows they’re going to be fucking great. Ever since Chim mentioned Maddie dropped them off while they were out on a call, Buck’s been chomping at the bit to sneak one or two…or three.

They’re sitting out on the counter for anyone, and he has the sudden thought to hide them, or eat as many as he can before he takes off. He doesn’t do either of those things, but the thought definitely crosses his mind.

“Thinking about all the things you’d do for those brownies?” Eddie’s voice drifts across the kitchen toward him, wrapping around him. He’s been playful and happy lately, and Buck has decided that his favorite look on Eddie. He’s teasing, and it feels like…before.

Buck shoots him a smile over his shoulder. “Maybe.”

“Tell me a few,” Eddie brushes past him to grab his own sweet treat, and Buck barely suppresses the shiver at his casual touch.

Here’s the thing: there is no thing as in _no_ thing is happening. They haven’t made another move toward kissing or touching. There’s been none of that. It’s almost like they’ve gone back to being friends. Best friends, but still…friends. When Buck told Eddie they could move at his pace, he meant it. He just didn’t think Eddie’s pace meant absolutely no touching or kissing.

Buck’s right hand is feeling used and abused, and its only been a week since their talk.

Buck takes a bite of his brownie. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Eddie’s eyes flick to Buck’s, a new, unfamiliar kind of heat pooling in his gaze. His eyes darken, and the way he’s gazing at him under his lashes makes Buck’s pants feel a little too tight suddenly.

Eddie takes a step around the counter toward Buck, glancing towards the stairs to make sure they’re really alone for a minute. “You should come over tonight. Chris is staying with Abuela.”

“Yeah, that sounds—”

Eddie cuts him off, “If you’re good, there might be brownies in your future.” He waggles his brows at Buck with a naughty smile.

“Fuck. Okay, oh, okay. Yes.”

“Buck! You better not have eaten all of those brownies. I swear to god!” Chim shouts from the stairs as he practically jogs over to the counter.

Eddie, the goddamn fucker, winks at Buck before turning on his heel, walking right out of the kitchen and down the steps.

He’s going to die. Eddie Diaz is going to kill him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The scene with Frank is less of a therapy and more of a “let’s see where Evan Buckley’s head is at” kind of scene. Hope that makes sense.
> 
> I also have went ahead and hanged the rating to explicit since there might or might not be ~sexy~ times coming up...


	16. i will break through no matter where you are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You like my bush?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, listen... I ended up having time today, and I’m an impatient little Buddie slut just like y’all SO I’m updating again (with full disclosure that there is no update schedule and it could be a while before the next update) I’m a little nutty on this whole “schedule” thing. Sorry not sorry.
> 
> I added some to this chapter since I’m thinking it might be a week or two before the next update. It’s almost 8k, so i hope you like that. We also have out first sexy time in here, too. 
> 
> OKAY before y’all flame me in the comments about the damn dream scene... I wrote that a while back when I was blocked to just kind of help myself out of the rut, but I ended up kind of having a love/hate relationship with it, so i just kept it and we can call it a fucking wrooper—writing blooper. 
> 
> I know I’ve mentioned this in some comments before, but I just want to reiterate for the masses: in my head, Buck and Eddie are like soulmates, the get-together is slow, but in my headcanon Eddie is all in when he decides because this is Buck. As for Buck, I’ve said it since chapter one... love is not a cure all as much as we want it to be, and this fic is all about realism. Keep that in mind since our Buck is still struggling. 
> 
> Thank you for comments and kudos. They are like a drug, and i turn into a crack whore for them, okay? Keep it coming. 
> 
> I also noticed that i posted chapter sixteen without ever editing. Hashtag embarrassing. I went in a tried to iron some of it out, so I’m sorry if you experienced it pre-edit. You are the best for not leaving a scathing yelp review. 
> 
> I’m on tumblr. Please come love me.  
> http://fernnette.tumblr.com/

There was a time when Buck thought he’d never get the chance to be happy. It was like a constant, low hum in the back of his brain everyday. It reminded him that everyone he’s ever loved has left him. His parents never really cared. Not the way they should have. Abby went to a whole other continent to find herself—and a new family. Not that he blames her really. Thinking back, Buck really wasn’t in a place to offer her everything she clearly wanted from life, and he was only connected to bad memories for her.

Then Maddie came back, and he was thrilled. Doug had kept her locked away for so long, and it felt like things were starting to fall into place for him. He had his sister back, and that was everything he could’ve asked for. Living with Maddie for that short time made him feel…whole in a way he hadn’t felt in a while. But she left too. Granted, she moved ten minutes away, but the point still stands. Buck wasn’t enough during that time for her. Just like Abby, Mads needed to branch out on her own to find herself.

Finding yourself is a load of horse shit quite frankly.

Ali came and went about as fast as Taylor Kelly to be honest. Buck got a taste of something good only to lose it as soon as he got a little too comfortable again. Being a firefighter is his dream. It’s the only thing he’s ever wanted to do, to be in life; helping people, in the real world…that’s where he belongs. He’s said it time and time again, and he’ll say until he’s blue in the face. Ali hadn’t given him an ultimatum. She didn’t need to because at the end of the day his choice would always be the LAFD. It was the only place he felt like he belonged.

Well, until Eddie…

Eddie feels different. Different from the love he felt for Abby. With Abby it felt like he was coming into himself. She made him want to bury the version of himself that refused to care about someone for longer than a quick fuck. She made him embrace the side of himself that craved to be loved and cherish. When he was with Abby, he realized all the things he wanted from a relationship. He wanted to make someone else happy, and he wanted someone to dote on him, to tell him how happy he made them. It’s no secret he likes to feel needed, praised for his accomplishments. He wanted that, and being with Abby made all of that bubble to the surface until it couldn’t be ignored.

He’s always been Buck 2.0. He’s always been this version of Evan Buckley. He just never wanted to be this version. He wanted to be Buck 1.0, LAFD’s resident slut, or he wanted people to think of him as that version. He didn’t care that people turned their noses up at him in disgust. He didn’t care…

Until Eddie.

It always comes back to Eddie lately because Eddie sets his insides on fire, makes his skin heat with a single glance. Eddie makes him weak, emotionally, mentally, and physically, but he also makes Buck strong, makes him feel like he could conquer the world in an afternoon and make it back for movie night. Eddie makes him want things that he tried to push down, that he was too nervous and beside himself to ask for with Abby. Hell, that he’s still too anxious to ask for.

Buck 1.0 is confident, sexually and just in life. Buck 1.0 is self-assured, and he’s not scared of anything, especially asking for the things he wants. Buck 2.0 though? Buck 2.0 is terrified; he’s still that same frightened little boy who got his ass beat for playing dolls with the neighbor boy. He’s still scared of asking for the things he wants because that’s when people leave, and Buck doesn’t want to lose anymore people in his life. Especially Eddie and Chris. He wants to keep them forever. He wants to keep them tucked away in their own special place for as long as he can. He doesn’t want to think about losing them because that leaves a gaping hole the size of Texas—pun intended—in his heart.

So he decides then and there in the middle of his shift as he watches Eddie saunter away from him with suggestive eyebrows and the promise of brownies that he won’t ask for more than he deserves. He won’t ask for more than he’s worth.

But he’ll give everything, all of himself, to the Diaz boys; because, if anyone deserves to be happy after being dealt a shit hand, it’s Eddie and Christopher.

//////

“It’s still weird that you’re knocking.”

Buck chuckles, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck nervously. He debated for a full four minutes—it felt like an hour— whether or not he should just walk in like he’d done before _everything_. He finally knocked and waited like the big oaf he is, hands shoved in his pockets as he rocked on his heels.

Eddie answered the door with damp hair after hightailing it out of the station right after shift, still in his uniform, to pick up Christopher and take him to Abuela’s. Buck drank in the sight of him now dressed in light wash jeans and a worn, green henley that’s doing wonderful things for him. He’s barefoot, and that just makes Buck’s heart race a little more.

Eddie laughs, a light sound that has Buck snapping his head up to meet his eyes with a sheepish smile, “This feels oddly familiar…”

“Right, sorry. I guess I just really like your bush,” Buck says, trying and failing to grasp the line of usual banter they fall into. It didn’t work. He can feel his cheeks heat, and he wants to bang his head into the door frame a few times.

Eddie shoots him an amused smile, “I’m glad you like my bush.”

“Oh, god,” Buck groans. “Can you shut the door, and we’ll start over?”

“Will that help?”

“Yes. So much.”

Eddie steps back with a wide smile and shuts the door without another word. Buck takes a moment to get himself together, chastising himself for being so goddamn awkward when clearly Eddie isn’t, which would usually leave Buck with questions, but in this case, he’s pretty sure Eddie is only as smug as he is because Buck is losing his shit so openly.

After a minute, he knocks lightly again, and Eddie opens the door with a little too much gusto and that same wide smile, beaming at him like he couldn’t think of anyone better to be standing outside his door waiting for him to answer. It shakes a little sense into Buck—like a tiny bit.

“Oh, Buck, hey.” Eddie starts, smiling too big to be any good at the acting he was attempting, “Didn’t know you were out here.”

Buck grins despite himself. It sneaks up on him, and he feels some of his nerves dissipate then and there. “Just waiting to be invited in.”

Eddie taps his chin, “I don’t know. I kind of thought we might stay here for a moment. Maybe admire my bush—”

Buck shoves his shoulder playfully, laughing, “Shut up. God, I hate you. Invite me in, jerk.”

“Are you sure because I don’t—”

“The worst.”

“—mind letting you really look at it. We have time.”

Buck shakes his head.

This is what he likes about Eddie. What has always made him tingle around the man since he arrived in LA. He’s tried to explain it before, tried to explain the way Eddie centers him, guiding him towards contentment safely while also turning his entire world topsy-turvy. Eddie’s always been able to flip everything in his fragile orbit around, shake him like a snow globe, then settle him like it never happened.

That’s why he always goes to Eddie for…everything, or why he always _wants_ to go to Eddie. He’s grounding, his own personal source of gravity that keeps him from falling off the ledge.

Eddie gestures for Buck to come inside, and Buck enjoys the way he doesn’t entirely step out of Buck’s way, so he doesn’t really have much of a choice when their chests slightly brush against each other in passing. He doesn’t let himself linger though, instead opting to hastily make his way toward the kitchen where Buck can smell what he thinks is stir-fry, which makes his heart race since Eddie knows that’s his favorite food.

When Buck rounds the corner, he sees the takeout containers from the Chinese restaurant on the other side of town that Buck likes. There’s several different cartons on the counter along with a dessert box that is no doubt brownies and a six-pack of Buck’s favorite beer that Eddie doesn’t really care for. The bags are strewn across the counter, like Eddie had just managed to get home in time to drop the bags on the counter before showering quickly.

Something warm and fuzzy, sweet and soft around the edges, unfurls inside Buck. It’s not unusual to have this specific takeout, and it’s not unusual for Eddie to grab the beer he likes. It just feels different now. Eddie was rushing to get out of the station, leaving in his uniform that still smelled of smoke and sweat, to get Chris and his—Evan Buckley—favorite takeout, brownies, and beer.

“Buck?”

He spins on his heel to see Eddie standing behind him with a concerned frown on his face, like he’s worried Buck’s about to bolt. No way, Buck thinks, no way is he getting rid of him that easily; that ship has sailed.

Buck swallows the weird lump of emotions in his throat and jabs a thumb over his shoulder to point at the items on the counter. “You…you got my favorite—”

Eddie blushes, pink cheeks spreading in a shy smile, as he scratches the back of his neck. He looks over Buck’s shoulder, refusing to meet his eyes. “Oh. Yeah.”

“That’s…” Buck breathes. Finally he’s the one smiling smugly, “So you really like me then?”

“You little shit,” Eddie laughs nervously. He walks past Buck to the fridge, taking out his own beer and guzzling half of it right there while Buck stares at him.

After a minute, when Buck is a couple of seconds from digging into the takeout, Eddie clears his throat, drawing Buck’s attention back to the other man. Eddie’s face is determined, a regular man on a mission.

Buck steps up to the other side of the counter, “Eddie?”

“I told myself that, that if we did,” he gestures between the two of them, “ _this_ that I would do things differently, that I would be better than I was for Shannon.”

Buck frowns, “Eddie—”

“No,” Eddie stops him, “I need to just…say this.”

“Okay. I’m listening, man.”

Eddie breathes out then seems to steel himself, that same determination hardening his features as he makes some sort of internal decision. Buck watches him as he places his beer on the counter before rounding the slab to stand in front of Buck. He turns Buck towards him, strong hands grabbing his biceps to maneuver him the way he wants until they’re facing each other. They’re close, toes almost touching, and Buck thinks he might die. He can smell Eddie’s soap, spicy and citrusy, wafting off of him and invading his space, and as if Buck thought this was as good as it was going to get, Eddie reaches for one of Buck’s hands, cradling it in his in a sloppy version of hand-holding again. That seems to be his thing, or maybe it’s their thing, in which case Buck loves it even more.

Eddie meets Buck’s eyes, a soft heat in them that melts something in Buck as they gaze at each other.

Eddie swallows, blushing again. “I like you. A lot. I don’t really understand it because I’ve never been attracted to men in my life, but…I am. Attracted to you, I mean.”

Buck smiles, “Yes, I remember. Popping a boner while I cleaned, wasn’t it?”

“Shut up.” Eddie snaps, but there no venom behind it especially with the playful grin on his face. “I’m just—I was so confused because I tried…researching to see if I was, you know, or if it was just a, a fluke, you know?”

“Like porn?”

Eddie sighs, “Yes, Buck, like porn, and I didn’t…nothing happened down there.”

Buck nods, “Didn’t pop a boner. Good to know.”

Eddie lets out a bark of laughter, “Will you stop? I’m trying to explain.”

“Sorry,” Buck says without an ounce of remorse. “Continue.”

“Anyways, nothing happened, so I thought I was freaking out for nothing. Then…” Eddie lets out an embarrassed little laugh, “On one of our shifts a while back, you were getting dressed in the locker room, and I saw…you know,” he gestures at Buck’s chest and stomach without meeting his eyes, “and I—”

“Popped a boner?” Buck asks with a cheeky grin.

Eddie shakes his head, a teasing scowl on his face, “Should I stop? Clearly you don’t need to hear this.”

Buck squeezes his hand with a dramatic pout, “No, sorry. I’m done—seriously! No more.”

Buck bit his lip to keep from blurting anything else out, or from potentially saying something dumb like how hot Eddie looks as he tries to say whatever the fuck he’s trying to say here. He’s flustered and unsure of himself, and while Buck thinks Eddie Diaz is hot when he’s confident and playful, he thinks he’s even hotter when he’s being real and raw like now.

“To answer your question, yes. Totally jerked off in the shower that night, which led to a horrible, shameful, guilt-ridden spiral of jackassery because I had just jerked it to images of my best friend wet and bent over cleaning.”

Buck blushes. Dear God.

Eddie continues, clearly trying to just power through, “So I lashed out, and I’ve decided that I don’t like that…because I like you. And, and…I want to, you know, date. You. Maybe, hopefully more.”

Buck lets out a sigh of relief, “Oh, thank fuck. I want so much more. _So_ ,” he draws out the word, “much more.”

Eddie grins and gone is the shy, flustered man replaced by the same cocky guy who answered the door twenty minutes ago. He’s smug and full of himself, practically preening at Buck’s statement, like there was some kind of doubt that Buck would want exactly what he’s asking for.

“I’ve been miserable. Awful. Chris is starting to suggest I go on a vacation, so he can have a break.” Eddie lets out a laugh, “Then I just thought, after that last fight when you took care of me—I thought why am I fighting this so hard?”

Buck rubs his thumb over the back of Eddie’s hand, “Didn’t want to lose our friendship?”

Eddie sighs sadly, “That’s the thing. We’d already lost it.”

“Ouch…”

“No, I mean,” Eddie rubs his free hand over his face, “I couldn’t be your friend after feeling all the things I was feeling. I didn’t want to go back to only being your friend, but I was terrified to be more, to want more.”

“The feeling was mutual.”

Eddie nods, “And after that night, I just woke up, and all I could think about was how stupid I was being. I could lose you entirely, or at least until we got over _this_ , or I could man the fuck up and want more.”

Buck stares at him for a moment. Eddie’s saying everything Buck’s wanted to hear for the past few months. He’s being upfront and honest. He’s being everything Buck wants in this moment, and it’s tearing, ripping, shredding, at something inside Buck. All of his words are cutting deeply at something that wants to be let loose.

There’s this part of Buck that wants to spill his guts, to tell Eddie everything he’s been going through. One day, maybe he will. Maybe one day he’ll be stronger than he is today, and maybe one day guilt and fear won’t snatch him away from reality, won’t plant little lies in his head, won’t make him feel a little crazy. One day, he’ll tell Eddie Diaz everything; he’ll beg him to stay with him forever even if he doesn’t deserve it, and he’ll claw his way through the wall blocking him from getting closer.

But one day is not today.

Eddie’s face softens as he maintains Buck’s careful gaze. He’s never seen Eddie look so fond and warm. It’s a look he wants to see on him everyday, all day. Eddie squeezes Buck’s hand gently, “I think it’s pretty obvious what I chose.”

Buck doesn’t say anything. He can’t. All the words he wants to spew are stuck in his throat, and he’s pretty sure if he tries to speak, he’ll start crying, and not the pretty kind of crying either. The super ugly kind that would send Eddie running.

— _you’re exhausting_ —

Fuck. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

Buck leans forward, pressing his lips lightly to Eddie’s. He can hear, _feel_ , the way Eddie’s breath hitches at the contact. The kiss is soft, entirely too sweet and hesitant for what Buck originally wanted from this evening, but still mind-blowing in the moment. It’s everything Buck’s wanted during the past week, everything he wished he could just take but didn’t.

Eddie drops Buck’s hand, opting to cup Buck’s face lightly. Everything is unsure, a little awkward. Every touch is an askance for permission because there’s no rules right now. There’s no clear outline of what the hell their doing, only that it feels damn good. Novices in the art of pleasuring other men, but somehow getting it right in a fumbling kind of way.

One of Eddie’s hands reaches around to tangle in Buck’s short hair, keeping him close like he thinks Buck is _actually_ going anywhere, while the other drifts lower, ghosting over Buck’s shoulder, his bicep, and across his chest. This touch is an exploration, carefully mapping out what he can of Buck’s body. The kiss deepens as Buck flicks his tongue out, licking along the seam of Eddie’s lips. Eddie opens, tilting his head, licking into Buck’s mouth, tangling with him playfully. His fingers do a little dance down his chest, a feather light graze over his nipple that has Buck sucking in a breath, breaking away from the kiss roughly to rest his head on Eddie’s shoulder.

Buck breathes harshly, “Fuck, Eddie.”

“I know.” Eddie lets his head fall back, one hand still placed gently on the back of Buck’s neck while the other is rubbing torturous circles around Buck’s nipple. “Actually, I don’t know. I’ve never—it’s never been like this.”

Buck swallows, bringing his hands up to rest on Eddie’s waist, “Not to sound too eager, but me either. I never want to stop.”

Eddie huffs out a laugh, “That could get awkward with Chris and work.”

“Since when are you the voice of reason?” Buck turns his face into Eddie’s neck, kissing lightly at the warm, tan skin there.

“Since always.” Eddie breathes, voice rough and hoarse as Buck continues to kiss and lick at his neck softly.

Buck slides one of his hands up Eddie’s torso to do his own exploring. His hand squeezes Eddie’s waist as the other glides over the fabric of his shirt, jumping and dipping through the phases of muscle and skin. He swipes his thumb under his collarbone, letting it fall back down his chest to brush along his side, feeling all the little notches and curves under his touch. He takes a moment to skim his fingertips across Eddie’s nipple then the other since he seems to love teasing Buck. Eddie sucks in a breath at the first touch, pushing into Buck slightly.

“Do that again.”

Buck does, brushing across the hardened bud a couple of times before pinching it between his fingers gently. Eddie shivers, his hand squeezing Buck’s neck before guiding his mouth back to his.

This kiss is different. It’s not soft and unsure. It’s hungry and desperate, fueled by everything new in this relationship. It’s scary and exciting, participating in a whole new round of firsts, wanting to jump in with both feet, yet being so timid and coy they’re not really sure where to start. Buck’s along for the ride, sliding his hands around to rest on Eddie’s chest while Eddie nips and licks at Buck’s lips until Buck is practically mewling under him, ready to strip bare and let the man have his way with him right in the kitchen. Buck grabs two handfuls of Eddie’s shirt, like he’s scared he might try to run off, and Eddie only responds by turning them slightly, pressing Buck back against the counter, so he can push into him even more.

“Oh, God. Oh, fuck. That’s…okay.” Buck breaks the kiss, letting out a breath that can only be described as wobbly and somehow very giddy.

Eddie Diaz’s very hard cock is pressing into Buck’s thigh, and he’s about two minutes away from coming in his pants like he’s in high school again.

Eddie heaves in a breath, pulling back to search Buck’s face for a moment. His cheeks are flushed, his pupils blown to shit, his lips swollen and red. He’s beautiful, so goddamn beautiful like this. “Are you… Is this okay?” He asks with a roll of his hips, ending the question with a groan instead of punctuation.

Buck can feel the frantic nodding, the way his hands grip and pull at Eddie’s shirt rougher than necessary. “Uh, is it okay if you rub one out on my leg? Yes. So much yes happening here.”

A laugh punches out of Eddie, and it quickly morphs into a drawn out moan as he rolls his hips again, slow and sensual, against Buck’s hip, just barely grazing his own erection, which Eddie seems to notice. In the next moment, he’s shifting his hips, spreading Buck’s legs a little wider with a swift tap to his foot, before sliding his thigh between them. Buck gasps at the sensation, sucking in a harsh breath as he thinks of old grandmas and naked mole rats to keep from coming on the spot. Buck thinks it should feel weirder to have a very manly, thick, muscular thing that he’s grinding his erection against, but his brain feels fried, completely short-circuited.

Eddie wraps an arm around Buck’s waist, letting the other grip his hip roughly. “Is this okay?”

“Yes. Yes, yes, yes. Holy shit.”

Eddie thrusts his hips against Buck, and fireworks shoot off as Buck’s eyes roll to the back of his head, eyes slamming closed as an obnoxiously loud groan punches out of him.

“Oh, that’s hot,” Eddie mumbles. He thrusts again, over and over, “I’ve never thought…but you look—fuck, you’re so hot like this.”

It’s on the fourth thrust that Buck comes so hard he’s pretty sure he blacks out. His entire body is strung tight one second, pulsing and throbbing as his cock shoots wet come into his jeans, and the next he’s boneless, completely limp against the counter as Eddie continues to rub against him. He’s sensitive, and it’s a bit too much as the denim from his jeans rubs him, bordering on painful, but the look on Eddie’s face as he too comes all in his pants makes it worth it.

Buck waits a few minutes for Eddie’s breathing to even out, taking a moment to get his thoughts in order on the off chance that Eddie freaks out and bolts, or since this is Eddie’s home, kicks Buck out.

Buck runs a hand down Eddie’s back. His head is resting on Buck’s chest, neck bent at a weird angle, but Buck can feel his warm breath through his shirt, so he selfishly doesn’t rush him. The other man’s fingers are gripping his hips loosely, and Buck’s suddenly realized they never took any clothes off. He wants to pout because he wants a shirtless Eddie—hello, who doesn’t? But he’s also torn because he’d never orgasmed like that with Abby or Ali, and definitely never in his fucking pants. Jesus.

“We just came in our pants. Like teenagers.” Buck starts, filling the silence.

Eddie nods, totally on the same wavelength as Buck, “For sure. We should try it again. Later. Not tonight. Unless you want to.”

“I want whatever you want. I told you we’d go at whatever pace makes you feel comfortable,” Buck reassures him. “Was this too…weird?”

Eddie lifts his head, meeting Buck’s eyes with a level of clarity that makes Buck’s belly do somersaults. He looks so hot, a fucked-blissed-out expression on his face that has Buck’s cock twitching with interest.

“I—no. I don’t think I even had a chance for it to register as weird.” Eddie laughs.

Buck leans forward, placing a light kiss on his lips. It’s really half a kiss if he’s honest. Just a peck, something chaste and barely there, but Eddie gets this soft, fond expression afterwards that erases the uncertainty of the act for Buck.

Eddie clears his throat with a wry chuckle. “This is a little contradictory, but I think we should start slowly, ease ourselves into this.” Eddie says slowly. “Neither of us have been with another man. There’s so much to—”

“Learn? I know. I’ve been watching the shit out of some informational porn videos.”

Eddie blinks. “Right. Anyways there’s a learning curve for us—wait, what kind of videos?”

Buck smirks, “Guess you’ll have to stick with me to find out.”

“Jesus Christ.” Eddie breathes. “Okay, back to what I was saying. I’m serious now.”

“Serious time. Got it.”

Eddie levels him with a glare that has very little heat behind it as he continues, “Slow. I want to do this right. Dates and all that. Holding your hand in public even though the thought makes my skin feel a little tight.”

“Like you don’t really want to or…?”

“No, I want to. I’ve wanted to touch you all week, but we needed to talk first. And…I’m just not used to all of this. I’m not that into PDA anyways, but I feel…possessive and little needy around you.”

Buck’s eyes widen. “Fuck, Eddie. When you go all in, you fucking go, dude.”

“Don’t call me dude when I just made you come in your pants.”

“Touché. Continue.”

Eddie sighs, “I’m just thinking we do the dating, and let the sex stuff come naturally. Don’t rush it. Maybe work our way up to it since the…mechanics are a little different.”

Buck nods, brows dipping thoughtfully, “Mechanics. You mean like who’s going to fuck who, right?”

“Dios… Yes. That’s one part of it.”

“Oh, well, I already know that I want you to fuck me,” Buck answers then slips past Eddie to grab one of the takeout containers. It’s a little cold, but Buck doesn’t care. He just wants veggie stir fry in his belly.

Eddie groans, “Let’s table this talk for another time, okay? Are you just going to eat while you’re like that?” Eddie flicks a hand at his crotch.

“I guess. Didn’t bring clothes.” Buck shrugs. “I didn’t want to be presumptuous.”

“Buck, I’m pretty sure you have a change of clothes here somewhere.”

Buck straightens, “Oh, duh. Then yeah. Let me change. It’s getting a little too sticky for my liking.”

Eddie pushes him out of the kitchen towards the master bedroom. “Go. Get out of here. Jesus.”

//////

Buck stuck his tongue out in concentration. He’s been working at this for thirty minutes, and every time he gets halfway, one of the fine strands slips through his fingers and he’s back at square one. Luckily, Samantha, his loyal model, is patient as ever, chatting about her week at school while somehow remaining completely still.

“Why don’t you let Kaylee try when she finishes with Martha?” Buck asks as a strip of blonde hair slips from his grasp once again, and he has to stop himself for the string of profanities that want to come racing out.

Sam shakes her head, dislodging the pitiful, half-assed braid for Buck, “No way. I want you to do it, Evan. You need to practice on me.”

“Why do I need practice? Seems like a lot of caca if you ask me.”

Buck begrudgingly combs through her hair again then separates it into three sections just like the twenty YouTube videos taught him. He picks up two of the section and tries to maneuver the third into his grip.

Sam kicks her legs out in front of her. “What if you have babies one day, and you can’t braid your daughters hair? You’ll feel real bad then.”

Buck stills for a moment. He’d never really let himself think about having kids of his own one day. Sure, he loved kids. He somehow fit right in—don’t make the joke—and they liked him back, totally bum rushes him whenever he steps into a room. It sends him preening, pride surging in his gut because at least these tiny humans with stranger-danger radars like him and trust him. It makes him feel connected to something bigger than himself in a way.

So when Sam asks about kids, which he knows she’s a kid so it’s not a pressing issue, he finds himself reeling a little bit. He thinks about Chris, and how he so casually referred to him as one of his dads the other day. How it made every bone in his body freeze before splintering into a million happy pieces. The more he thinks about the more he can obviously understand why, even with the past few weeks of not really seeing Chris, how he could think such a thing. What he means is that looking back Eddie and he were practically dating anyways. They had all the items of a relationship except for…sex. (Thank fuck they have that now.)

The point that Buck is trying to make is that he’s always considered Chris to be like a son to him. He’s been there to help Eddie the whole time he’s been in LA. From the movie nights to the day trips to the aquarium and parks to the late nights when he’s sick, Buck has been there. When Carla can’t come through last minute, Buck is there.

_Buck, there’s nobody in this world I trust with my son more than you._

The tsunami taught Buck a lot of things, and thanks to what was Bobby-appointed therapy, Buck is really learning what all those things are and how they’ve impacted his life.

He’s said it once before that if it taught him one thing it was that Evan Buckley doesn’t quit; he fights. Fights to get back to the people he loves. Fights to stay afloat. Fights to keep people safe. Buck will always fight even when he’s drowning. Especially when he’s drowning.

He’s also learning what parental love is. That kind of love that just comes naturally, unconditionally, and in great abundance for your kids. How Buck and Maddie never really had that, and how Buck wants to be so much more for Christopher. Because when he sees his future Eddie and Chris are right beside him the whole time, loving him in their own way. That unconditional love he feels for Christopher makes his heart stop, makes him excited, makes him worry. It’s a terrifying kind of love that he can’t believe he’s able to feel for such a special kid.

Buck braids Sam’s hair, still failing to get the prices to stay, still trying even though he’s been at it for half an hour. She has the patience of a saint. She definitely deserves a lollipop after this.

“You know, I think I have a kid already, Sam.”

Sam twists a little, careful of Buck’s big hands in her hair. “Why didn’t you tell me? We should have a play date, and you can push us both on the swings. Mama won’t care, I promise.”

Buck’s heart breaks another inch for this sweet little girl who’s helped Buck heal more than he realizes. She’s been a beacon of hope, a source of happiness, while he’s been away from the one kid that usually provided those things for him, and now he can’t imagine not knowing Sam.

Buck peeks around to shoot her a big grin, “We should, shouldn’t we? Chris is a special kid.”

“Did I hear something about a lollipop when we’re done?”

Buck narrows his eyes, “I don’t think I said that.”

“We get a sucker every time we play. It’s only fair.” Sam states.

“I’m getting too predictable.”

“What’s pre-dick-able mean?”

Buck restarts his braid with three messy sections that he can already tell won’t be the ones to make it to the end. “Predictable. It means to do what’s expected. You thought I’d get you a lollipop because I always get lollipops. That means I’m being predictable.”

“Oh…Will I still get a lollipop?” Sam questions.

Buck chuckles, dropping her hair again. “Yeah, Sammy. We’ll get you a lollipop. Now, how about we settle for a ponytail?”

//////

It was all Britney Spears’ fault, okay?

No, seriously. If he hadn’t added her catchy, upbeat songs to his workout playlist, he wouldn’t be in this mess. And by mess he meant completely and utterly embarrassed within an inch of his life. He means he’ll never be able to look at his team again without blushing furiously and wanting the floor to open up and swallow him. When Evan Buckley says embarrassed, he means completely humiliated beyond repair.

Everyone has had at least one dream in their life that has left a lasting scar on them. Not like a nightmare—he’s had plenty of those. More like a dream that leaves a little niggle of anxiety for, like, two days afterwards. Don’t try to lie because Buck knows everyone has at least had a dream like that once.

Buck has had plenty of embarrassing dreams. Of course he has because why not? He’s a confident dude, okay. He can handle a little humility.

Unfortunately this dream went…SO far beyond anything he was expecting. So far over the acceptable level of humility that even Buck requires to stay somewhat humble.

He was in the bunks at the station, sleeping while he could since you never really know when those sirens are going to sound. The dream started off pretty normal, right… He was standing in front of…well, a lot of people. All of his coworkers were there, occupying the several rows of pews because he was pretty sure he was in a church. It had to have been a funeral. Everyone around him was crying, dressed in all black with handkerchiefs like you see in the movie.

Buck stared out at the mass of people in front of him, rolling the sleeves of his neon blue shirt—what the fuck—shirt to his elbows before grabbing the microphone from the stand beside the podium.

He remembers Dream-Buck lifting the mic to his lips as he looked into the casket, not seeing anyone. “You will be missed.”

Then he started belting _Oops…I Did It Again_ into the mic in the same tone deaf voice he’s always had. It was obnoxious, and vaguely reminded him of nails on a chalkboard. The worst part was watching all of his friends and family stare up at him in horror before laughing at him, which totally happens in these dreams. It always ends in laughter except this time it didn’t end with laughter.

It ended with Buck tearing his pants off like a fucking stripper while committing to the Britney song.

It was singlehandedly the worst dream Buck’s ever had. Worse than his nightmares. Worse than any real life situation he’s ever been apart of. (Okay, maybe not that bad, but it felt that bad immediately after he woke up.)

It was one of those dreams that you feel for days afterward. One of those dreams that you struggle to figure out what the hell it might mean only to come up short because what the fuck could singing Britney Spears at a funeral then stripping possibly mean, okay? It was all a little too confusing. Not to mention that Eddie woke him up from this dream, and that only added to the growing amount of embarrassment he felt as he walked through the firehouse feeling like everyone was still pointing and laughing at him even though there’s no way they even knew about the dream.

Like he said…confusing.

//////

“Regular or fat free?”

Buck holds the bottle of salad dressing in his hand, examining the label like he’s truly reading the ingredients or nutrition facts. He isn’t. He’s just trying to look like he’s actually doing something other than chatting on his phone and taking up a portion of the aisle.

Eddie scoffs into the phone, “What the fuck kind of question is that?”

Buck chuckles, grabbing two bottles of the regular dressing Eddie requested. He’s only planning to swing by for a moment before heading back to his own house. He just happened to call Eddie when he was walking into the store, and Eddie just happened to need salad dressing of all things.

“I must be crazy.” Buck responds, smiling at the easiness he feels. That’s how it’s been with Eddie so far. Incredibly easy where he thought things would be so complicated and difficult. They’re taking things slower than slow in his opinion, but it feels adolescent. In a good way.

It reminds Buck of being young and liking someone so much you thought your stomach would drop out of your asshole anytime they even looked at you. That’s how it is with Eddie. It’s like making out, only making out, under the bleachers and worrying about getting caught except in this case they’re worrying about an eight-year-old. Very different especially since he’s around…all the time.

Buck can’t complain though. He doesn’t want to. He just wants to soak up all the attention and utter fluff Eddie’s throwing his way. It isn’t really what he expected out of Relationship-Eddie, but he craves it. He craves the soft little hello kisses and the lingering goodbye kisses. He’s desperate for the small touches and the sloppy hand holding. He wants the heated stares right along with the soft gazes. Buck just wants it all.

Eddie tsks in mock seriousness, “I’ll say. Can’t believe you would even say that…”

“I’m sorry. This is me formally apologizing for my severe transgression.” Buck pauses. “That sounds so sexual.”

The same old grandma that swatted at him with her cane earlier gasps at him before waddling past him as quickly as her arthritic knees will carry her. Buck wants to laugh, but he doesn’t. Okay, maybe he does a little, but it’s only because the little girl standing with her mom across from him does too.

Eddie’s voice is rough in his ear, interrupting his thoughts, “My mind is going so many places right now… God, okay, not right now. Chris is eating, and I don’t want things to…swell.”

Buck barks out a laugh, “Oh my God. Did you just say—”

“Yes, and I hate myself for it. I’m hanging up now.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll see you soon.”

Buck hangs up, sliding his phone into his pocket before spinning on his heel toward the main walking area and toward the checkout. He doesn’t have much in his cart, and he curses himself for even getting out in the first place. Sure, he gets to see his boys, but at what cost?

“Help! Someone call 911!”

Buck’s head shoots up, snapping toward the commotion a couple of aisles over. He leaves his cart by an end-cap before jogging toward the growing crowd.

“Coming through! Make a path! LAFD firefighter.”

The crowd parts, and he finds himself face to face with the same old grandma from a few minutes ago who’s tangled around a broken shelf. It looks like it was haphazardly roped off, and if the wet floor sign is anything to go by, Buck thinks it’s pretty obvious what happened.

He kneels beside the lady, reaching out with sure hands to check her pulse and examine her briefly. There’s blood oozing from his side, and he moves her shirt enough to see a gaping wound from the broken metal in her side.

Buck finds her eyes, looking at her as he speaks, “My name is Evan Buckley. I’m going to make sure you get taken care of, okay? What’s your name?”

“Georgia,” she gasps out weakly.

“You,” he points to a man standing with the group, watching with wide eyes, “Call 911. Hand me the phone when you get through.”

“Sure, yeah.” The man fumbles for a moment then hands Buck the phone. He wedges it between his hand and shoulder then thinks better of that, turning it on speaker phone and dropping it to the floor beside him.

“911, what is your emergency?”

“My name is Evan Buckley. I’m a firefighter with the 118.” Buck rambles off as much information as he can as he strips his hoodie off then packing it over Georgia’s wound. Her eyes are barely open, but she seems to be hanging onto every word buck is saying, which is a good sign.

It doesn’t take long before the paramedics arrive, taking over for him. He’s trained enough to handle these situations by himself. Give him a rescue maneuver? He’s all over that. Saving little old ladies in the grocery store from bleeding out? Not so much.

He’s not able to ride in the ambulance with her per some kind of rule. Whatever. Buck doesn’t really care that much. As soon as they get Georgia situated and rolling out of the parking lot, he hightails it to his Jeep, whipping it out of his spot so fast his body jerks around the cab. Maybe he’s a little too invested. He’s not even sure why he feels the need to make sure someone, anyone comes to sit with her. She did hit him with her cane and judge him for very mildly sexy words. Like the mildest form of PG, okay?

Either way, Buck is parking and jogging into the Emergency Department. Jeremy is there working the front desk, and he entertains him while he waits on an update about Georgia. Somehow Jeremy’s able to nag one of the doctors into some useful information, and Buck soaks it all up before reminding him of all the HIPPA bullshit he should really be more aware of.

It isn’t until a few hours later that Buck is shaking hands in departure with Georgia’s daughter that he realizes he never purchased his groceries from the store, just ran out of the doors like his ass was on fire. Which also meant…

He pulls his phone out and winces. Four missed calls and two messages from Eddie.

He slides into the driver’s seat of his Jeep as he calls him back. Eddie answers on the first ring.

“Jesus, Buck, are you okay?”

Buck sighs, “Yeah, I’m—”

Eddie is practically growling, the anger seeping through the phone, “I was really fucking worried. Out of my damn mind. Jesus.”

Buck closes his eyes. “Sorry. I am, really. I just left the hospital—”

“Fuck, are you okay? What happened?” Eddie asks in a rush. He lets out a breath, “I’m sorry. I’m being a dick.”

“No, it’s—” Buck shakes his head even though he knows Eddie can’t see him. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I was about to check out at the store then this little old lady, like impaled herself on a piece of shelving, and it was just…a lot.”

“You went to the hospital with her?”

Buck sighs, “Yeah. She wasn’t even nice, but I couldn’t just leave her.”

Theres a long period of silence where all that can be heard is the sound of their breathing into the receiver, and its oddly comforting and alarmingly at the same time. It makes Buck want to burrow into Eddie’s side, but also chastise himself for making him so mad already. He’s psyching himself up to ask if he’s still there when Eddie finally speaks.

“You’re so goddamn good, Evan. Too good.” And Buck flounders for a moment. Eddie lets out a content little sigh suddenly, “Go home, Buck. Call me tomorrow.”

“Yeah.”

It’s a half assed goodbye, but Buck’s distracted. A nasty, mushy kind of distracted that leaves a goofy grin on his face.


	17. i will find you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “As Michael Scott would say: I understand nothing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update schedule is still nonexistent. Editing takes so fucking long, bro. I also have some personal bullshit going on. But y’all are awesome and patient and understanding so yeehaw mothertruckers 
> 
> I’m on tumblr. It’s mainly ships and headcanons and some yelling??   
> http://fernnette.tumblr.com/

“I think I’m going to shave my head,” Buck says a few moments after the movie ends.

Chris is curled into Eddie’s side, a soft look of sleep on his face and a hint of drool on his dad’s shirt. It’s adorable, and fuck, it makes Buck yearn. He’s yearning. Not that it’s a bad thing. He doesn’t mind the longing he feels to be a parent to Chris. Eddie hasn’t said the words, and he doesn’t need to for Buck to understand. Still, there’s something incredibly sexy about watching Eddie be a daddy—all the daddy puns intended.

Eddie startles beside him, his mouth falling open as he stares at Buck. Their hands are tangled in that sloppy way Buck loves along the back of the couch, and they’ve been that way since Chris first started to slip into sleep thirty minutes into the movie. It’s warming, a comforting gesture of affection that Buck’s becoming increasingly attached to. At first, Eddie was embarrassed that he’d linked their hands together so oddly, an awkward jumble of fingers not quite slotting together. Now it’s the only way they hold hands. Sloppy and imperfect.

“You—what?”

Buck nods, a sigh escaping his lips as he runs his free hand through his light strands. It’s still short, but he’s ready for a cut. “Yeah, I’m thinking I’m just gonna, you know, buzz it.”

“No.”

Buck snaps his eyes toward Eddie’s, who’s pointedly not looking at him. Come on, the end credits of a movie aren’t that fascinating. His cheeks are flushed like he’s embarrassed by his outburst, like he can’t believe he actually managed a tone of finality about Buck’s hair.

Buck grins, enjoying the way Eddie’s skin is pink-tinged and his lips are drawn into a dramatic frown. Chris stirs under Eddie armpit, and he can see, and feel, the way Eddie’s entire body seems to relax now, like Chris is the perfect buffer, and Buck will just drop it.

“Aw, I missed it.” Chris pours. “Let’s start it over.”

Eddie snorts, “I don’t think so, buddy. Time to get ready for bed.”

Buck helps Chris stand, a little wobbly but righting himself, “Hey, can I pick your brain about something?”

“I don’t know. Will it hurt?”

Buck barks out a laugh. “No, Chris. It’s a—you know what? Never mind. I just want to run something by you. See what you think.”

Chris nods, “Sure.” At the same time Eddie narrows his eyes menacingly at Buck.

“I think I’m going to shave my head. What do you think?”

“ _Dios, that’s a low blow…”_

Chris’s lips spread comically wide as he nods his head. Without a second thought, the kid reaches out to run his skinny fingers through the soft hair on Buck’s head, combing through it haphazardly, and Buck is sure that if he were to look in a mirror right now, he’d see his blonde strands standing on end, crazy and wild. He’s smiling happily at Chris, enjoying the way he’s on the receiving end of the kid’s unrestrained love. There’s no hesitating, no cautious movements. Chris doesn’t think before he runs his fingers along Buck’s scalp; it doesn’t even register for him to second-guess his movements before his hand lands softly on Buck’s shoulder. It’s carefree and unapologetic in nature. Very child-like and lovely.

Christopher yawns through a wide grin, “Can I come with you? Can I get my head shaved?”

“Okay, that’s—Chris, it’s time for bed. Buck…” Eddie glares at him, but there’s a subtle curve to his lips, “You’re toeing the line a little too close right now.”

Buck chuckles, “Got it, captain. Chris, we’ll talk later.”

Eddie rolls his eyes then strides toward the bathroom with Chris following hot on his heels. While Eddie lays Chris down, he focuses on cleaning up their dinner plates and popcorn bowls. This has become something of routine. Not the cleaning part. Usually Eddie rushes through the cleaning before the movie even starts while Buck is distracted by Chris in the other room. The routine part is Buck being in the Diaz home for dinner. It’s only been like three weeks (who’s counting?) since they started dating—god, that’s _so_ weird—so things are still just forming, but Buck’s had dinner with Eddie and Chris the past three Fridays. Buck would love to come over all the time, would love to just hop in the car with Eddie after shift and ride back the Diaz house together.

He’s getting ahead of himself.

The point is that this, gathering the dishes and wiping the counters, feels so domestic and right. It makes Buck get that once-familiar itch in his chest. That tightness that makes him shake a little. At the time, he had hated it because it made him feel guilty and ashamed for the just-budding romantic feelings he was having for his best friend. Now the itch makes him a little giddy, his heart tripping desperately with unbearable fondness. It makes him a little anxious in the best way. The anticipation of what’s to come with Eddie Diaz makes his chest itch, makes him a little dizzy, makes him tingle low in his belly with need.

That need is both emotional (read: craving sloppy hand holding) and sexual (read: craving Eddie’s dick against his).

Unfortunately Eddie has decided to go at a snail’s pace, which is fine. _It’s fine._ Buck just wants, longs, for so much from Eddie, and it’s becoming increasingly harder and harder—ha!—to stop himself from pushing things farther. There’s lots of make-outs. Like on the couch, high-school styles, occasional dry-humping that does not lead to mutual satisfaction kind of make-outs. Buck’s ready to dive in, get his hand on Eddie’s cock and bring him to his knees, but he’s pretty sure Eddie’s terrified of touching Buck’s dick, which is going to be a problem eventually. For now, Buck can let it go. It’s a difficult adjustment for both of them. Buck is understanding, which is why he’s not pushing. He’s letting Eddie guide, letting Eddie have control of the situation.

“I think that plate is clean, Buck.”

Buck jolts, dropping the plate into the water with a hard clash to the porcelain. Buck is holding onto one long piece of plate while he stares at the other fragments floating in the water.

Buck swears softly, “Fuck.” Then sets about gathering the pieces in his hands.

“Hey, it’s okay. Be careful.” Eddie says, sliding up beside him to take the dripping pieces of plate from him.

Eddie disposes of it while Buck goes back to washing the final dishes. Buck can feel Eddie’s eyes on his back as he, undoubtedly, leans against the counter behind him. It’s like Eddie’s assigned spot in the kitchen. He always leans on the counter right there, usually with a beer in one hand, but the premise is the same. That space of counter has bragging rights to Eddie’s ass that Buck wants.

All of these sexual thoughts make him feel guilty. Like while he’s telling Eddie they can wait and take things slow, he doesn’t really think that, and the last thing he wants to do is pressure him into something he clearly doesn’t want. If Eddie wants to kiss and make out for the rest of their lives, Buck is cool with that—can be cool with that. His right hand has gotten mega use lately, overworked the past three weeks, but that’s not really Eddie’s fault. He can’t help it that Buck gets incredibly turned on watching him scale a building, or sipping his coffee like it’s liquid gold, or screwing up dinner royally before ordering takeout. He thinks everything is so hot, and yes, he’s aware he’s so fucking far gone that he’ll never be okay after this.

When he’s done with the last dish and props it up on the drying rack, he turns around to look at Eddie. His hands are braced on the sink behind him, and he’s mentally trying to figure out where his beer went, so he has something to do with his damn hands.

“Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours?” Eddie asks from his perch.

Buck shrugs, a smile curling his lips, “Just thinking about when I should commence the head shaving.”

Eddie groans, “You’re joking, right? This is a prank or something.” Eddie shakes his head, holding up a hand to stop Buck from explaining when he opens his mouth. “Never mind. You know, if we’re taking a vote, mine is no.”

“Ah, but Chris said yes. That means we’re split. Fifty-fifty. Much to think about.”

Eddie laughs, “I don’t even care. Shave it. Don’t shave it. Whatever.”

Buck steps closer to him, only a foot or so of space between them now. Eddie is grinning at him, not even trying to hide all of the emotions he’s projecting at Buck right now. There’s an openness about this Eddie—the Eddie that’s dating Buck behind closed doors. Eddie decided to take the risk, and he jumped in with both feet whether he was in the shallow end or not. He just took the leap, and Buck witnesses him choosing this every time they’re together. It’s plainly written, and it’s a little terrifying to be so committed in the beginning. Eddie doesn’t second guess his moves. He doesn’t spend thirty minutes wondering if he can hold Buck’s hand. He just does it.

It’s admirable and scary at the same time.

Eddie closes the distance between them with a sure, soft press of his lips against Buck’s. It’s light and sweet, but just as melting and heart stopping as all of the other kisses they’ve shared. Buck brings a hand to rest on Eddie’s shoulder, his fingers clinging to the solid muscle in an attempt to keep himself from jerking the other man into his body and grinding one out against his leg again. Eddie’s hands are cupping Buck’s face, one dipping down to curve around his neck where his index fingers begins brushing softly along his hairline.

The kiss stays relatively tame, the same painfully slow pace it always stays. It’s safe and comforting. Don’t get him wrong. This kiss makes Buck’s entire body feel loose and warm all over, like he’s sipping hot chocolate while cuddled up with his man on the couch. It’s good for his soul in all the ways that count.

It’s just not what he wants right now.

He breaks away first, leaning his temple against Eddie’s as he breathes softly onto Eddie’s hair. His dick is painfully hard in his jeans like it always is, and Buck’s ninety percent sure all he’d have to do is get a good breeze, and he’d be coming in his pants just like the first time. Nothing wrong with that really except Buck would like to move out of high school fantasies and onto real, grown-ass adult shit. Is that too much to ask for? Probably.

Eddie huffs our a breath, and Buck can hear the simmering frustration in that little burst of air. He doesn’t say anything though, just waits for Eddie to gather his thoughts enough to explain why he’s feeling frustrated.

It doesn’t happen though. Eddie just huffs again, and that should not be as sexy as it is, but Buck can feel the air blow over his skin and hair, sending little tingles down his spine and straight to his never-going-to-soften erection.

“Thanks for cleaning up. I could’ve done that, you know.”

Well, that’s not where he thought this was going.

Buck clears his throat, trying to disguise his own frustration—sexual in nature—before he speaks. “I don’t mind. I helped make the mess.”

Eddie shrugs.

“Well,” Buck starts, pulling away from Eddie slowly, painfully, because he doesn’t really want to separate, “I should probably get home. Maddie needs me to help her install some…I don’t even know. Security something? Anyways, I should get out of your hair.”

Eddie mumbles something under his breath before giving Buck a small, slightly forced smile that only makes Buck want to vomit violently all over the kitchen.

//////

He has a nightmare that night. In flashes. Like some edited movie montage showing him Chris, Eddie, Maddie, maybe more…all drowning and calling for Buck, but he can’t move. He can’t get to them. He’s screaming and yelling, fighting against the waves to get to his people.

He doesn’t make it. He never makes it.

//////

“Did you want to hang out after shift?” Buck asks while changing into his uniform. His navy t-shirt is firmly in place, and he makes quick work of tucking it in the waistband of his slacks. “I figured we could get pizza and watch movies?”

Eddie’s face does this weird thing. A series of emotions cross his features: elation, confusion, sadness, regret, guilt. It’s like a school bus of the worst emotions ever crashed into Eddie, and there were no survivors. The worst part is the blank, impassive look he fixes on his face as he buttons up his shirt, looking back into his locker carefully.

“Wish I could, but Chris and I are going to Abuela’s.” Eddie answers. He shoots a small, shy smile Buck’s way, “Raincheck?”

“Uh, sure. Everything okay?”

“Yeah. I think I just heard Bobby rounding everyone up. Button faster, grandpa.”

//////

Kaylee scrunches her nose in disgust, scooting herself as far away from Buck as possible like he’s contagious as he squirts a generous amount of ketchup on his scrambled eggs. He grins cheekily as he licks excess ketchup off his finger before spearing a bite of egg and chewing happily.

“You’re sick. An absolute sicko, Evan Buckley.”

Buck chuckles, sipping his coffee and sampling the different items scattered around him. He has waffles to one side, covered in butter and drenched in syrup, hash browns smothered in gravy on the other, and in the middle are his eggs, with his precious ketchup, and toast, also drenched in strawberry jam. Kaylee made a quip about the amount of food he’d ordered, but it kind of died off when he launched into the details of why he needed such copious amounts of food. (He’s talking about his beefy body.) Granted, most of his meals don’t include such heart stopping amounts of butter, but everyone needs a cheat day.

Kaylee isn’t much better. She’s surrounded by different meats, which is hilariously ironic and incredibly punny. She’s chowing down on a sausage link, nibbling and chomping like it’s the most delicious thing she’s ever eaten, and if Buck weren’t totally hung up on Eddie and knew for a fact Kaylee is into girls, he would’ve thought of this as foreplay. Fortunately he knows this is just Kaylee.

He was a little surprised when she came out to him, revealing her own ‘oh, shit’ moment to him not too long into their friendship. She’s a lesbian, full-on, give me all the pussies, kind of lesbian. She’s also closeted, which was confusing for Buck since she flaunted her sexuality around, proudly claiming how much she liked women. It was also a little shocking to learn she wasn’t bisexual considering how much she tried to put the moves on Buck, too, but that’s the closeted part of Kaylee. She won’t say much, probably more embarrassed than anything since for all intents and purposes she flirted and tried to get in Buck’s pants so he’d help at the Center. He doesn’t even want to know what her supervisors encourage her to do to get volunteers.

“So,” she starts, sipping her coffee loudly, “what’s your man doing on this fine night?”

Yeah, they’re having breakfast for dinner. Sue him. He likes waffles, okay? There’s nothing wrong with it. He also didn’t want to sit around like a weird bump on a log waiting for Eddie to message. He’s not that lame…

Buck smiles, “Is it wrong that I kind of like when you call him my man?”

Kaylee laughs, wriggling another sausage link at him suggestively, “No, not wrong.”

“He’s at his Abuela’s today with Chris. Some kind of family dinner I think.”

“You didn’t want to go?”

Buck shrugs. It’s not that he didn’t want to go. Actually, he normally goes to Abuela’s whenever they have family dinners, but things are different now. It’s been weeks since he’s made an appearance, and now they’re dating. It’s weird right now, a little awkward since they’re not telling anyone at the moment. Things feels a little in limbo. They barely manage not to out themselves at work. Buck doesn’t think they’d manage at Abuela’s. She’s too intuitive. Buck would blink at Eddie, and she’d know.

She’s good like that.

“He said it would be fine, but…”

Kaylee nods, understanding drifting over her features. She twirls a lock of hair around her finger in what Buck has come to see as a calming gesture. Calming as in _I want to say something, but I shouldn’t_ kind of gesture.

Buck tosses his unused straw at her. “Just say it.”

She shakes her head, picking at a sausage link, before leaning forward with a frustrated sigh. “I just don’t understand. You guys are together, right? There’s been hand holding and kisses, so I would think this isn’t some casual fling that you’re expecting to be over with in a couple of weeks? Am I right?”

“There’s been… _those_ things. Just not a lot of—no feelings talk really.” Buck explains as best he can.

“What.” It’s not a question. She’s agitated like it’s her relationship on the line here.

Buck’s not really sure what to say if he’s honest. He just thought they were enjoying each other for the time being. Hanging out and having meals and playing with Chris. Maybe texting everyday… Okay, Buck’s scared. He hasn’t pushed from the start mainly because he knows if he does Eddie is as good as gone. Then again Eddie’s given him every reason to think he really likes Buck. Well, besides the fact that he won’t take their physical relationship past second base which is way too frustrating for a man who’s almost thirty and a self-diagnosed sex addict.

It’s a dilemma.

He huffs out a laugh and runs a hand through his hair only to regret it a second later. Stupid product and shit. “I don’t want to scare him away. I know he cares, or he wouldn’t have taken the chance.”

“You need to talk to him. Communication is key. Honesty and all that grown up shit. You lay everything out for him, and let him make the next move.”

Buck grouses, “What if he doesn’t want the same things I do?”

Kaylee smiles, a little too pessimistic for Buck’s taste if he’s honest. “Then you move on. Without wasting a good chunk of your time on someone who doesn’t see how great you are.” She steals another bite of waffle, and Buck scowls. “Or you give him more time and space to get a fucking grip.”

“He’s had weeks, months, to get a grip! How much time does a person need?” He pouts. “I don’t mean that. He can have as much time as he needs. I’m just more of an instant gratification kind of guy.”

Kaylee scoffs, “Fuck, dude. Not to be… _offensive_ , but grow some balls. It’s just talking about your inner most, deep-dark, complex feelings for the first man you’ve ever liked… What’s hard about that?” She’s smirking are him the rim of her mug.

“Why are we friends?”

“My sage advice.”

//////

It’s five o’clock two days later when Buck loses it. (Not so) Subtly. A gradual mental downward spiral that leaves him hunched over one of the station’s toilets dry heaving for twenty minutes until the bell rings throughout the station.

Buck was the last one out of the rig, stripping out of his turnout jacket as soon as his feet hit the concrete. Chim and Hen were doing inventory in the ambulance already. Bobby and Eddie sprinted toward the showers immediately, covered from head to toe in a special film of grime since they were in the building longer than everyone else, so that left Buck by himself, which he was perfectly fine with. He took his time with his gear and making sure the rig was in some semblance of order before he started to trudge toward the locker rooms.

“Uh, ‘scuse me.”

Buck whips around, startled. His heart beating out of his chest at the sound of someone behind him. He lets out a winded laugh, hand rubbing over his chest in a dramatic show of calming himself down.

He rounds the front of the truck, stopping a few feet from the man. He’s burly, bald and bearded. His body is covered in tattoos, or at least the body that Buck can see in his cutoff t-shirt and cargo pants. He looks like he is or was in the military at one point with how bulky the man is. Buck is big, muscled and tall, but this guy is on a whole new level of big.

“What can I do for you?” Buck asks, forcing his eyes to stop assessing this guy. It’s all purely scientific. He wants to ask about his workout routine, and maybe how much protein this guy has to consume to stay this large. He doesn’t ask mainly because Buck’s actually a little afraid of this guy.

The man grunts as he pulls a black phone out of his back pocket. “Yeah, Eddie work here?”

“Yeah…” Buck can feel his brow furrow, lips tipping downward.

“Give this to him. He left it in my truck the other night.”

Buck accepts the phone, nodding his head since words don’t seem to be forming right now. The man doesn’t say anything else. He walks away, hands tucking into his front pockets as he crosses the lot. Buck stands there like an idiot, watching the man look both ways before crossing the street—safety first—then climbing into a big, black truck.

“What are you doing over here? You should go shower and change, man.” Eddie claps him on the shoulder, a smile on his face as he comes to stand in front of Buck.

Buck clears his throat, holding out the phone for him to take.

Eddie perks up, “Oh, man. Where’d you find this? I told you I’ve been looking for it everywhere.”

“A man just brought it in. Said you left it in his truck the other day.”

Eddie’s eyes widen. He flicks his gaze to stare outside, searching for the man in question. He’s tense, shoulders straight and stiff as his throat works to come up with something to say. Something to excuse this.

“It’s not what you think, Buck.”

Buck blows out a breath. “I think it’s lying. What do you think it is?”

“Definitely lying.” Eddie says truthfully, which almost makes it worse.

His skin feels hot, blood boiling, and a little itchy. Entirely too tight for his body, and if the way he’s clenching his fists, blunt nails digging into his palms, is any indication, Buck’s getting angry. It feels foreign and odd on his skin. Heated and flushed, sweat dotting his brow, his teeth grit together in a way that makes him cringe. This anger almost feels cathartic in a way. Helpful and demeaning in the same moment. He doesn’t like it, he decides. Doesn’t like the way he feels like he could yell and scream whatever thoughts float through his head. It’s dangerous, scary.

“Can we do this later? Not here. Not…at work.”

Eddie nods, a sad frown pulling at his lips in a way that tugs at Buck’s heart, “Yeah, come over later. Chris is with Abuela again. Some play date with a cousin or something.”

“Sure, okay.”

//////

Buck doesn’t go to Eddie’s that afternoon.

In fact, he doesn’t even tell Eddie he’s blowing him off. He just turns his phone off, locks his apartment door, and pretends everything is just fucking dandy. He makes a carb-loaded dinner with lots of pasta and cream sauce and garlic bread, and he inhales two plates while watching some irreverent show that he’s seen a thousand times.

It’s a boring, mundane night. A night Buck’s had several times before, but tonight feels lonely and a little heartbreaking.

Honestly, Frank would be ashamed of him, totally disappointed in how he’s avoiding the entire ordeal. Buck can see it now: the notes, the frowning, the low hums of disapproval. It’s a scene Buck knows well because shockingly (to no one) Buck tends to avoid or make bad choices under the _slightest_ hint of pressure. Frank says it’s neither a positive nor negative character trait, but Buck’s paying him good money, so maybe he’s just trying to remain neutral. (Buck is thinking ‘making bad life choices’ is probably a tick in the negative.)

In the back of Buck’s mind, he knows avoidance isn’t the right approach. The sane, rational part of him understands that Eddie might have a perfectly reasonable explanation for why his phone was in some burly man’s truck the night he was supposed to be at Abuela’s. The mature part of him, sane and rational, understands that he should’ve followed Eddie home after shift and talked it out like adults. That a long talk needs to happen anyways.

The insane, fucking crazy part of Buck though is ruling the roost at the moment. That part of him that is saying there’s no way there’s an explanation for the deceit, the lies, the disrespect. (Feels dramatic now…)

There’s different stages to Buck’s night. His own personal adaptation of the stages of grief—Five Stages of the Buckley Spiral. It starts with the usual: denial. He spends his entire time cooking dinner trying to convince himself that he dreamt the man out of his own insecurities because that’s likely. He’s never felt this insecure in a relationship. With Abby and Ali, it was nothing for him to say how he felt, or explain what he wanted/needed from them. With Eddie it feels more complicated, like Buck is on a tightrope where one wrong word or touch or vague gesture could send him to his death. So yeah, maybe it was a dream he’d had one night. Something he conjured up during the night.

Plausible.

The next stage: anger. Listen, Buck isn’t an angry guy. It’s not often he gets his metaphorical feathers ruffled, but tonight is different. He’s slumped on the couch, spine curved uncomfortably, as he shovels pasta into his mouth aggressively. There’s sauce on his chin, a little on his shirt, and a noodle starting to crust into the couch beside him, but he can’t make himself focus on that long enough to care. Instead he’s mumbling vague, passive aggressive insults at the television like it’s Eddie. It isn’t pretty…( _“I put my heart out there for that motherfucker to go out with a macho man?_ I’m _a macho man! Why would he fucking do this to me? That fucking cocksucker. He’s dead to me!”_ ) and he’s only a little ashamed.

Then comes bargaining…this is something Buck learns he’s good at. He apparently does the bargaining stage quite often because the transition from anger to bargaining is so smooth and seamless he doesn’t even realize it’s happened until he’s floating into the next stage.

Which is depression.

That’s where he is now, disgusted with himself as he curls his massive throw blanket around his big stupid body and sinks into the couch to wallow in copious amounts of self-pity and humiliation. He’s bloated from two mountain portions of pasta, and he feels a little damp with sweat which makes his whole body feel gross and sticky. Not to mention the pasta noodle still crusted onto the couch. It’s driving him mad, and yet he can’t get himself to just fucking flick the damn thing off, which only frustrates him more.

Why would Eddie want this? Why would Eddie stick around for Buck, a little sad too often and working through his goddamn mental health issues, when he could have…Mr. Bald and Burly? Does Eddie like bald men? Is that his type? Does Eddie even have a type yet? Why was he so adamant about Buck not shaving his head then?

That’s fucking it.

Buck hops off the couch, swaying for a moment after standing too fast, then he’s off toward the stairs, sliding along the hardwood in his socks like a little kid. He’s determined. This is serious. It’s not the time for games and fun.

He strides into his bathroom, laying out his supplies before locking eyes with his reflection in the mirror. He looks tired, sure, but much better than he did a month ago. He’s weathered the eye of the storm. He’s survived rock bottom and managed to find a way to brick by brick build himself back up.

The moment feels dramatic, the climax of the movie where the star is having their breakthrough moment. That single moment of clarity that is tangible finally, that the viewers already fucking saw, but the main star is finally FINALLY understanding. Buck’s not sure if this is that moment for him, or not. Honestly he’s not sure what the fuck he’s going on about in his head, but it feels deep. It feels like a _moment_. Like he needs to make it a moment.

He stares himself in the eyes, rubs a hand over his curling hair. His lips quirk as he thinks about the muffled show playing downstairs. He can vaguely hear the theme music playing, and for some reason it’s grounding to the moment.

“As Michael Scott would say: I understand _nothing_.”

Then he picks up the clippers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t hate me, okay?


	18. i'll be the light and lead you home when there's nowhere left to go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Be greedy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *insert same old speech about the nonexistent update schedule*
> 
> This is just one scene, and it’s shorter than the past couple of chapters. BUT I wanted this to have its own moment. It’s profound for me. (At least the first part) 
> 
> I’m still on tumblr being a lil shit btw  
> http://fernnette.tumblr.com/
> 
> Warning: smut and feelings ahead children

Flaws.

There’s such a negative connotation around the pesky little demons we try so hard to escape, so we can feel worthy of someone else’s time and appreciation. It’s a weakness, an imperfection that we as people work to eradicate from our being. It’s a soul-baring process, laid-out and splayed open emotionally for the apparent bettering of your person. Because that’s the whole point, right? Search deep within yourself to find your worst blemishes and destroy any evidence that they ever existed.

This soul search usually leaves you feeling broken, a scattered mess of puzzle pieces scrambling to put yourself back together without all of the broken, blank pieces.

Somehow Buck convinces himself day-in and day-out that because he’s a little cocky and somehow unsure, flirty and impulsive all in the same breath, that he doesn't deserve the happiness he wants desperately. That all of those things are reasons he could never be seen as a desirable partner to Eddie. That it’s all the more reason to push him away, to let him find someone who’s worthy of all that he has to give.

Frank looked close to inflicting physical harm to Buck during their session when he explained how Eddie lied to him, and Buck decided to ignore him for thirty-six hours and shave his head instead. In that tense moment after telling the story out loud to another person who’s job was to literally judge Buck’s life, he realized how petulant he’d been acting toward the entire situation.

He could add that to his list of flaws.

By the end of his session, he felt oddly at peace somehow. Like a weight of sorts had been lifted from his chest at how Frank told him to embrace his flaws, to embrace the things that made him weaker and imperfect. That he didn’t need to hide his impulsivity or cockiness behind a mask of false perceptions.

Because, when he thinks about it, Buck’s entire being is flawed. Physically and mentally. He’s scarred all over his body from that damn truck pinning him to the cold, wet asphalt to the tiny, almost imperceptible, scars on his forearm from some lady’s car windshield. His entire body holds reminders of all the ways he’s flawed and defective. Don’t even get him started on the scrambled madness happening in his brain most of the time. Between the nightmares and the constant self-loathing he seems to be a pro at, he’s surprised he’s able to function normally at all. He’s gotten so used to going through life at this half capacity that he doesn’t recall a time when he wasn’t self-destructive and a hazard to himself.

But that’s the beautiful thing about life and living one that’s actually worth a damn…

You can grow and change, morphing into someone who isn’t perfect by any means, but accepts that fact for what it is. That despite the fact that you’ll never be this ideal version of yourself you’ve created in your head, it’s better than being someone with absolutely nothing special about them. You’ll flourish anyways, embracing all of the things that have made you who you are, all the things that make you different than the person beside you.

And eventually, you’ll find someone who loves every inch of you. Someone who will uncover every deep, dark hidden deformity and all of your shortcomings layer by layer until you’re stripped bare, aching with the need to cover yourself from such scrutiny. Someone who will touch your quivering soul softly, lavishing it with good intentions until your held together by love and fragile, effortless emotions.

That’s the easy part though.

The other stuff, embracing and loving all of your flaws part, is the hard part. It’s messy and chaotic, not nearly as compartmentalized as your brain would let you have it. Because life is incredibly messy and disorganized.

Buck will be the first to admit that he hurts deeply, and he lusts uncontrollably; he’s selfish even when he's trying so hard not to be, and he's generally terrified. He's all the things that society says are inappropriate; he’s held together by dirty thoughts, dirtier words, and carbs—the ultimate form of dirtiness.

One wish Buck’s had for months now is to just be happy, to be comfortable and content in life.

Being happy doesn’t make everything perfect. There’s no such thing as a perfect life. Being happy doesn’t mean that suddenly everything is rainbows and sunshine and cherry lollipops. It means somewhere along the road you decided to see past the bullshit, to look beyond the mangled horizon and onto the brighter future.

So Buck’s decided to be happy. No, it’s not an instantaneous cure-all for his months of nightmares and anxiety. It’s more like a motto, an affirmation for today and every day after…

Be happy.

//////

There’s a banging at his door that makes him jolt upright, shirt uncomfortably bunched around his chest and armpit. Buck wiped the sleep from his eyes, dazedly swaying in his bed of warmth when he looks over his shoulder at his alarm clock. It reads 1:23am, and Buck lets out a loud groan as he hauls himself out of bed, not bothering to put on pants and instead opting to straighten his shirt slightly, as he carefully makes his way down the stairs, gripping the railing tightly in the dark.

The banging starts again as he hits the last step, and if he weren’t irritated already, he’d be way past the point of no return now.

Without a second thought, he slings his door open wide, mouth opening to curse the son of a bitch out who decided to wake him from his precious sleep in the middle of the night, when he stops short, halting his irate thoughts before they get any further.

“Eddie?” He peers around the man to search up and down the hallway before his eyes connect with Eddie’s.

He looks tired, ragged and unkempt in his haste to arrive at Buck’s doorstep in the middle of the night. His normally neat, combed over hair is unruly and disheveled, sticking up at odd angles like he’s been running his fingers through it. There’s bags under his eyes like he hasn’t been sleeping much, and Buck’s pretty sure Eddie was wearing that same shirt the other day after shift—the day Buck was supposed to meet with him and talk…the day Buck decided to be a little chicken shit.

Eddie breathes out what looks like a sigh of relief when he sees Buck’s sleep rumpled form standing in the doorway illuminated by the moonlight streaming through his windows behind him.

“I couldn’t—you wouldn’t answer your phone, and…and I haven’t heard from you at all. I was worried,” Eddie explains, running a hand through his short hair. He’s looking down the hallway, avoiding Buck as much as he can now that he’s set eyes on him, and Buck suddenly feels like shit.

“I didn’t—”

Eddie stops him, shaking his head lightly, “It’s okay. I just couldn’t…it was bothering me, but I know you’re good now. So…” Eddie takes a step back, glancing down the long hallway again before briefly meeting Buck’s gaze, “I’m gonna go. It’s late. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Eddie, wait.” Buck wraps his arms around his middle to keep from reaching out for the other man. “Do you…Do you want to come inside for a minute?”

“Um, sure, yeah…”

Buck leads them through the apartment to the kitchen where he starts a pot of coffee, pulling two mugs down from the cabinet then pulling out creamer and his sugar container, to keep himself from standing there staring at Eddie like a big oaf. It’s eerily quiet, the only sounds filling the room from the coffee machine dripping liquid into the pot, and the occasional clang of Buck setting supplies on the counter.

“He runs the ring. The underground fighting thing? It’s his deal. He pairs fighters together and handles the money.”

Buck spins around to face Eddie, who’s sporting the most determined face as he pointedly stares at Buck like he’s forcing himself to man up and tell the truth. Buck can admire that.

Buck nods, swallowing thickly, “I hate that I’m relieved you were fighting behind my back instead of hooking up with some huge ass man.”

“You’re the only huge ass man I want,” Eddie says softly with a pink tinge to his cheeks, and Buck inhales swiftly.

“Eddie…”

Eddie closes his eyes and gives his head a little shake like he’s trying to clear it then he closes the distance between the two of them, and Buck is painfully aware of his state of undress suddenly. He feels even more exposed in his t-shirt and boxer briefs, but Eddie doesn’t seem to notice or care in the moment because he’s got a look of steely determination on that makes Buck shiver with the intensity of it.

“I don’t think I made it clear before.” Eddie starts, hands fumbling blindly for Buck’s, and he finds them, holding tightly like he’s scared Buck is going to walk away at any moment, “I want you. So bad. And, and…and I know that this is too much too soon, but I don’t want to dance around what you make me feel.” Eddie looks up at the ceiling, voice breaking, then back at Buck, “I’m terrified, Evan. I don’t know how to do _this_. I’m not good at it, and I feel like I’ve already fucked it all up.”

“You haven’t. This is great. You’re doing great.”

Eddie smiles, genuine and shy and soft, something so incredibly vulnerable that Buck is struggling to keep himself from climbing the man like a tree. Buck wants him to finish spilling his feelings because believe it or not, Buck thinks this conversation is long overdue. They should’ve been upfront and honest at the beginning, but it was all so new and scary, fearful of going too fast too soon and losing everything before it’d even started.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I…I don’t want to experiment, or be casual, with you. I want all of it, and that scares the shit out of me. I’ve never wanted like this, and I can’t stop myself from being selfish with you.”

The coffee machine beeps behind them, and Buck springs away from Eddie like he’s been caught by his dad with his pants around his ankles in his childhood bedroom or something.

“Jesus…” Buck mutters, filling the mugs with coffee then adding cream and sugar to his cup and a little cream to Eddie’s. He passes the mug to Eddie who takes it gratefully, sipping cautiously for a minute.

Buck tries to find the words he’s looking for, desperately racking his brain to figure out what exactly he’s trying to convey to Eddie in this moment. Because Buck was sure as soon as he left Frank’s office twelve hours ago about what he wanted. He just wasn’t sure Eddie would want the same, and now that he knows he does, he can’t think of adequate enough words to explain that he’s totally on board with serious because “Same, man” or “Ditto” isn’t exactly romantic and as soul-baring as “I’ve never wanted like this” in his opinion.

He opens his mouth then closes it.

He tries again, “I don’t—I can’t… My brain isn’t working.”

“You don’t have to say anything, Buck.” Eddie states, almost sounding resigned like he’d been fully prepared for Buck to toss him out. “You’ve been the one to make all of the moves. You’ve been the honest one.” _No, he hasn’t._ “It was my turn to grow some balls and stop making you second-guess yourself.”

“Ditto…to all of it…”

Well, so much for romantic.

Eddie’s eyes are wide for a moment, a blank look of surprise on his face before he’s laughing, soft and disbelieving. The sound makes Buck’s heart flutter even though there’s a deep blush on his face, heated from the embarrassment of his lack of eloquence. Hell, lack of fucking words.

Buck sighs in exasperation, “I just mean I—”

Eddie grabs his face roughly, lips pressing into his with a sense of urgency they’ve never shared before. Everything between them has been controlled, almost gentle, the two of them holding back and restraining themselves out of fear of pushing the boundaries of the other. This is a give and take, a push and pull, where both men are pouring everything into it, giving until they have nothing left to give, taking from the other without thought or care.

This kiss is every emotion, good or bad, that they’ve held back for weeks now. It’s demanding and wet, firm and somehow soft at the same time. Buck’s hands are clutching at Eddie’s middle, fisting his shirt and yanking the man as close as possible. Eddie has one hand cupping the back of Buck’s neck, fingers scraping over the now buzzed scalp while the other hand is gripping his hip tightly.

“You really shaved your head,” Eddie breathes out as he draws in a breath.

He hums in reply. Buck kisses over Eddie’s jaw, wet and hot, down his throat until he’s licking at the skin just above the collar of his shirt. His hands flatten on Eddie’s stomach, the hard planes flexing under his fingers, before he runs them softly over his clothed ribs until they rest in the middle of his back, pressing softly into the warmth there.

Before can really think about what he’s doing, he’s dropping to his knees right there on the hard floor in front of Eddie, staring at his crotch with wide eyes while his hands grip at the man’s hips.

“Jesus, Buck.”

Buck swallows, fingers trembling as he brushes them over Eddie’s button and zipper of his jeans. He can hear the soft inhale above him, so he takes that as a good sign to continue. He works quickly despite a little fumbling because it’s apparently a lot harder to undo someone else’s pants than it is your own, but once he gets his fly open, he hooks two fingers in each side of the waistband, looking up to find Eddie’s watching him intently, a dark look of hunger on his face as Buck slowly begins to slide the material down Eddie’s hips.

It’s a little underwhelming as far as sexiness goes. Buck tries to maintain eye contact, but he also doesn’t want to accidentally yank Eddie’s dick off by being thoughtless because Eddie is hard, not halfway or any of that shit. He’s fully erect, broadcasting his lust for Buck as loudly as he can.

Buck loves it, sends a little thrill down his spine to know he can make Eddie feel this good without really doing anything yet.

His cock springs free, bobbing in front of Buck’s face like one, giant temptation, and Jesus fuck, is it a big one. He’s not a monster, an inch or so more than average, but he’s thick with a little curve to him that makes Buck’s mouth water a little.

That’s when he starts thinking about what the fuck he’s supposed to do now…

“I don’t…” Buck starts, “I’ve never done this, so tell me if it’s, you know, not good?” He ends it like a question for some reason.

Eddie snorts out a dry laugh, “I don’t think you could mess this up. Not that it matters. Pretty sure I’m going to come as soon as you touch me.”

“ _Oh.”_

“Yeah, oh.”

Buck licks his lips, flexing his fingers for a minute, before wrapping one, sure hand around Eddie’s erection.

“Dios, Buck,” Eddie grunts as he thrusts into Buck’s grip immediately.

Buck grins, suddenly smug about the way Eddie is so clearly affected by him. Buck can do this. He’s always been a generous lover, focusing on his partners pleasure more than his own, and that feeling goes above and beyond for Eddie. He wants all of Eddie’s soft noises and twitches as he tries to restrain himself.

Buck leans forward to flick his tongue along the angry, red head of his cock, licking at the bead of pre-cum sliding down the slit. It’s salty, a little bitter, but not bad at all. He lifts the man’s cock to lick the underside, along the vein there, and a soft groan slips out of Eddie as Buck’s hand tightens on the base of his shaft.

“Come on, Buck,” Eddie pleads. His eyes are hooded, clouded with lust, as he watches Buck flick his tongue out a few more times before swirling it around the head experimentally.

He pushes at Eddie’s shirt where it’s hanging against the thatch of dark hair at his groin, and he gets the hint, whipping it over his head quickly, not really caring where the hell he just threw it. With that last obstacle gone, Buck grips at Eddie’s hairy thigh, squeezing and kneading at the warm flesh there as he dips forward, wrapping his mouth around the head of Eddie’s cock, swirling his tongue then flicking at the sensitive slit.

One of Eddie’s hands fly to Buck’s shaven scalp, blindly grabbing at anything, and that’s when Buck starts to regret shaving his head. The other man is white-knuckling the counter while the others holds the back of Buck’s head lightly, not pushing or forcing. Just there. Like moral support.

He takes another inch or two into his mouth, flattening his tongue along the underside of his shaft, hollowing his cheeks as he sucks Eddie while creating his own steady pace. Bobbing his head, in and out, swallowing more and more of his cock until he can feel the head nudging at the back of his throat.

And that’s promptly when Buck gags, choking and coughing like the amateur he is.

But… Eddie releases a loud moan, fingers digging into Buck’s head at the sight of Buck gagging on his cock, and isn’t that just interesting?

“God, you’re so…fuck! Your mouth, Buck. So good.”

Buck practically preens under the praise, swallowing Eddie down as far as he can manage, and if he maybe goes a little too far on purpose so he can see if Eddie really likes the whole gagging-for-my-cock thing, so what?

In fact, he likes it so much he comes abruptly, hips bucking erratically for a moment as he throws his head back and squeezes his eyes closed, and Buck’s mouth floods with come which he swallows as much of as he can, a few drops dribbling out of the side of his mouth.

He strokes him through the aftershocks until Eddie’s breathing returns to normal, and he’s grasping Buck’s shoulders roughly to pull him up. His tongue darts out, licking at the come on Buck’s chin—okay, that’s hot—before he slants his mouth over Buck’s in a wet kiss that’s all tongue and tasting, licking inside his mouth, tasting himself on Buck’s tongue.

It’s all so erotic and way kinkier than he expected.

Buck pulls away to rest his forehead against Eddie’s, “Was that—?” _Was that okay?_

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Eddie questions with an incredulous chuckle. “That was…you’ve never done that before?”

“No.”

Eddie nods, “I feel weirdly smug about being your first. My dick really likes being your first.”

Buck takes a step away from him, laughing, before taking a gulp of his now cooling coffee. His boxers are tented, and as much as he would love for Eddie to reciprocate, he also has to take his own turn sharing his feelings.

“I want—” Buck breathes out roughly, face growing serious, “I haven’t been completely honest. I’ve wanted… _so_ much the past few weeks, Eddie, and I’ve been so scared that you don’t want me the same way I want you.” Buck’s staring into his coffee cup like he might be able to read to swirls of creamer if he strains hard enough. “It feels too good,” he whispers. “I feel like at any moment I’ll lose this. At any moment you could figure out how unstable and messy I am, and that’ll be the end.”

“Evan…that’s not—”

Buck keeps going quickly, “I told myself to just enjoy what you were willing to give. Don’t be greedy.”

Eddie steps into his space, grasping his chin softly between his thumb and index finger and guiding his eyes to meet his. The man’s face is soft, eyes gazing into Buck’s with so much affection wrapped in them, lips quirked up in a shy, lopsided grin.

“Please.” Eddie states, and Buck’s brow furrows in confusion. He continues, “Be greedy. Ask for more. Fuck, ask for everything, Buck, because that’s what you deserve… That’s what I want to give you. Everything.”

“That sounds serious,” Buck breathes, wide-eyed.

Eddie nods, “It is. If that’s what you want, too.”

As if there’s a version of Buck that wouldn’t want that.

“But what about the fighting?”

Eddie backs out of Buck’s space, and it feels like a way of showing him that he doesn’t want to influence or somehow seduce him into not talking about this, which Buck appreciates. Both of them lean against their respective counters, and Eddie crosses his arms, naked chest looking entirely too enticing in the moonlit darkness.

He scratches his jaw, “Lena got me into it. I was…arrested a few months ago.” He looks embarrassed, ducking his head. “She took me to watch one night, and it just spiraled. We were fighting, and my dick was suddenly doing weird, not-friendly things around you. It’s not an excuse, but I was just looking for something.”

“I don’t like it, but I understand it.”

“I beat the shit out of some guys. They beat the shit out of me. My own fucked up version of therapy, I guess.”

Buck sniffs, “Maybe you were just throwing punches at the wrong person.”

“No.” Eddie replies roughly. “I never wanted…no.” He clears his throat, “Anyways, I’m done. I didn’t even fight that night. I felt guilty the entire time.”

“Rightfully so.”

“Like I said, there’s no excuse. I was, still am, scared of screwing this up.”

Buck’s the one to close the distance this time, tucking his face into Eddie’s neck and wrapping his arms around his shoulders. There’s no hesitation on Eddie’s part as he wraps his arms around Buck’s middle, hands splayed over the expanse of his back, thumbs rubbing softly back and forth.

Buck speaks into Eddie’s throat, “We can do this.”

“Hell yeah, Buckley.”  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update 10/03/20: Okay, before people start flipping their shit, I have ended this fic. YAY!! Our boys have reached the point where they’ve entered a relationship together. There’s no longer any miscommunication happening... or is there? Lol
> 
> I have decided that for all intents and purposes this is a perfectly suitable ending for most people. That being said, I, personally, am not finished with where I want to see these babies go. I have so much fluff and smut I need from them, and I’m sure others do as well. SO that means A SERIES!! *cue fireworks and confetti canons*
> 
> I have some material for the next part, but my focus is on my original work at the moment. Like I said though I’m not done with this, and I don’t know if I ever will be, but I know some people wait until a fic is finished to read and all that, so this is ~technically~ finished. 
> 
> This fic was supposed to be a fanfic of other fics that had managed to spiral out of control into its own fucking thing. It grew wings and flew away from me. This isn’t how I planned this fic to go except for the first few chapters. Still, I can’t picture these two in this story any other way. 
> 
> Expect part two soon!

**Author's Note:**

> What do you think?? I love constructive criticism and enthusiastic comments about how much you’re loving/hating it!! Please give me feedback.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Deep End (Part 1)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27676537) by [Ineedapuppyandsomevodka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ineedapuppyandsomevodka/pseuds/Ineedapuppyandsomevodka)




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